The Dangers of Meddlesome Redheads
by frostykitten
Summary: Ginny thinks Hermione needs to stop waiting around to be swept off her feet, but when she casts a spell on her friend to help her get that special someone, things don't go exactly as she'd planned... Hermione may just kill her for her meddling.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Disclaimer: Any recognisable characters, places, etc, aren't mine. They will continue to be not mine for the entirety of this story.**

**A/N: Really jumping right into the action with this chapter... If was slightly mortifying to write, which means you guys will probably like it. *grins***

**This idea was **_**mean **_**to me. I was trying to sleep when I got the idea for Ginny's spell and the rest kind of just... filled itself in. Needless to say, I couldn't sleep until I'd written it down. **

**Also... I wasn't going to post this until I was finished writing the entire story, but I've been having trouble finding the motivation to write it (I only have chapter 2 and some of three written!), so I was hoping you guys might be able to motivate me with your lovely reviews?**

**Oh! And I needed a beta reader for this story if someone has the spare time (this chapter is unbeataed – sorry).**

**~Frosty**

Hermione sighed as she flipped another page in her book. She had to stop reading romance novels, they were just depressing her. There were always happy endings in romance novels, and she knew from experience that those things never happened. In real life, there was only heartache and disappointment waiting for woman.

She was midway through the sixth chapter and her thirty-second sigh when Ginny burst into the room, snatched the book from her hands, and threw it to the floor. Like usual, Ginny didn't respect pesky things like manners that required her to announce her presence when visiting a friend, or respecting that friend's possessions once she'd burst into the room.

"What was that for?" Hermione demanded irritably, looking from her discarded book to her annoying friend.

"You're wasting your life waiting for some Prince Charming to ride in on a white horse and sweep you off your feet! If you could lower your expectations a little, you could be _happy_!" Ginny exclaimed, waving her arms around and turning slightly red from her rant.

Hermione didn't comment right away. She gave Ginny some time to cool off as she bent down to retrieve the poor book. Smoothing out the wrinkled pages, the brunette glared at the youngest Weasley sibling as if she'd just injured a friend instead of a pile of paper bound together with some glue.

The brunette was pretty sure she knew exactly why Ginny was suddenly against reading. It was the same reason Ginny was _always _bursting into her house. "Let me guess: Ron's just _waiting_ for me to be more open to his advances while he bides his time with anything in a skirt that will open her legs for him?"

Ginny's face hardened and she pursed her lips in irritation. For the sake of her own sanity, she was going to have to ignore the vulgar comments about her brother's sex life. That was just disgusting. "You could be happy with Ron if you'd just give him a chance!"

The thirty-seventh sigh of the day escaped Hermione's lips. "Ginny, that didn't work out. We're better off as friends and you'd know that too if you didn't keep trying to bring us together against our will. I'm happier 'waiting for some Prince Charming' as you put it than I'd ever be with Ron."

"I have news for you Hermione, Prince Charming always goes for the beautiful princess and right now, you hardly fit the description."

Hermione winced; that was a little harsh of her. To be fair, it was her day off and she'd planned to spend the time catching up on her reading. No one ever dressed their best when they were just lounging around the house; it was a waste of effort. She fingered the baggy sweatpants. They weren't the most flattering article of clothing she owned, but she hadn't been expecting company, particularly such _judgemental_ company. The characters in her books hardly cared if her clothes were three sizes too big, or that her hair was even larger than usual. She would have worn something nicer if she'd known Ginny was going to burst in at nine in the morning and start poking holes in her quiet time.

What sane person was awake and visiting people at _nine in the morning_? It was just unreasonable.

Ginny wasn't cruel, she just had a little trouble with her habit of bludgeoning people with the truth from time to time. When she saw that Hermione was actually a little hurt by her statement, she opened her mouth to say something to soften the blow, but Hermione cut her off.

"For your information, my prince will love me regardless of what I wear." She put her nose in the air in a good imitation of the stuck up swot most people believed her to be.

Ginny wasn't fooled. She knew her friend wasn't that person.

"Hermione, you're twenty-three and have completely given up on your love life. It's depressing to watch."

Choosing not to dignify that with a response, Hermione opened her book once more and buried her nose in the papery world in which she frequently immersed herself.

Ginny huffed her annoyance. She recognised a dismissal when she saw one. "Fine, I'll go. But don't think I'm going to let this drop!" she said.

The only answer she received was the turning of a page.

Tired of being ignored, Ginny left the room and stomped her feet to the Floo in Hermione's living room. She waited a moment to make sure that Hermione thought she'd left before creeping back to her friend.

For someone who'd survived a war, Hermione's instincts left something to be desired. The brunette was completely lost in that paper world of hers, she had no idea that she was being watched.

Hermione was smart, pretty, successful, and Ginny saw no reason that she should be so alone. It was time Ginny take matters into her own hands, give Hermione that little push she'd needed for a long time.

In a bookstore she'd wandered into recently, Ginny had found a spell that was perfect for her friend. She knew Hermione would _kill_ her should it backfire, but the potential for everything to go well was just too tempting to _not _give it a try.

Hermione deserved to find someone, even if she needed a little push... Or maybe a not so little push. Knowing Hermione, she was going to take a rather large shove.

Peeking around the doorway, Ginny craftily pointed her wand at her friend. The spell was only supposed to make Hermione more motivated to get whoever it was that she wanted, it wouldn't make her do anything she didn't want to do. Ginny only wanted to give her that push, _not _take away her free will.

The brunette jumped a little when the spell hit her, but otherwise, she didn't react.

Immediately, the redhead's eyebrows drew together. Something was supposed to happen! Why wasn't something happening?

Ginny was just starting to wonder if maybe it hadn't worked when Hermione tossed her book to the ground, stood from her chair, and Apparated away.

She'd done it! The redhead took a moment to wiggle on the spot, congratulating herself for a plan well executed with a small victory dance. Hermione was going to be in a _much _better mood once someone dislodged that stick up her arse.

Her celebration paused briefly as she realized that Hermione's Mr. Right might not be someone suitable, but she dismissed the notion. Hermione had never had anything but the best judgement, there was no way that she wasn't going to choose someone acceptably bookish and reasonable.

* * *

><p>Hermione frowned up at the large building in front of her. She knew there was an important reason that she hadn't ever set foot inside that building, but it didn't seem all that important at the moment. What <em>was <em>important was the inexplicable draw she felt towards something – or rather, some_one_- inside that building. No reason for staying away could possibly be good enough to keep her from his arms.

Purposefully, Hermione marched inside and stood in front of the receptionist's desk in the main foyer. The horrified look the woman behind the desk was wearing reminded Hermione that she was still wearing the clothes she'd been lounging at home in. That wouldn't do.

Hermione's brow wrinkled in concentration for a moment before she waved her wand and transfigured her outfit into something more office appropriate. A plum coloured skirt and jacket over a cream blouse along with a pair of heels appeared on her body. There, that was better. Nothing she could really do about her hair though.

Self-consciously, Hermione patted the busy mess, but then she remembered that she'd told Ginny earlier that her prince charming would want her no matter what she looked like. What better way to make sure he really _was _a Prince Charming than to wear her hair in a mess that would scare away any normal person.

"What can I do for you?" the receptionist asked, still looking down her nose at the brunette on the other side of her desk.

Hermione glanced at the sign behind the woman displaying the various offices contained in the building. Her eyes caught on the name she wanted and then moved over to the title attached to that name. At least she knew he was doing well for himself – not that there was ever any doubt about that.

"I'm here to see the CEO."

Yes, that was who she wanted. There was a nagging feeling that she shouldn't be there, but Hermione dismissed it. She _wanted _to be there. Why would she want to be there if it was bad?

She was _Hermione Granger_, she never wanted bad things.

Something was off about her thought processes, but she just didn't seem to _care_ at the moment. There was someone she needed to see. Not just see him; she needed to hold him, to be held. It had to be him.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that miss," said the woman, sounding completely unapologetic. In fact, that looked suspiciously like a sparkle of _glee_ in her eyes. How fitting; the woman got sadistic pleasure from turning people away at a company that was notoriously difficult to get an appointment at. The woman must spend all day ducking under her desk to cackle to herself about all the people she could turn away.

Hermione narrowed her brown eyes at the woman. That slip of a girl couldn't be more than ninety pounds, and a good portion of it was makeup, hairspray, and bad attitude. What was stopping her from stunning her and just... going to take what she wanted?

Almost before the thought had passed through her mind, the woman was slumped over her desk, unconscious.

Well, that was surprisingly easy.

A twinge of remorse made itself known in the back of Hermione's mind, but it quickly slipped away, leaving her once again determined to reach her goal. Sometimes horrible people just needed a through stunning, it would probably do the horrible girl some good.

The security of the place was really abominable. No one even questioned Hermione as she boarded a lift and rode it to the top floor. She received a few strange looks, probably for the mess that was her hair, but no one stopped her.

What if she'd been there to kill him or something? There was no way he didn't have enemies with his personality. It was an acquired taste.

She paused a moment in front of his office. That nagging feeling was back again - with reinforcements. There was an important reason that she hadn't walked through that door before. Something had been holding her back.

For the life of her, Hermione couldn't remember what it was.

Tired of the internal battle, Hermione shrugged it off. If it had been important in the first place, then why couldn't she just remember?

It couldn't have been that important.

She pushed open the door and walked into the office beyond.

Her heart leapt at the sight of a familiar blond head bent over paperwork.

* * *

><p>Draco frowned at the sound of his office door opening. He had a lot of paperwork to do and had specifically <em>told <em>that useless bint of a receptionist that he wasn't to receive any visitors.

All thoughts fled his mind when he saw who it was that was standing there. It felt like his heart had stopped. Her hair was longer and her skin was a touch paler, but otherwise, she looked exactly as he remembered.

"Granger," he greeted, looking warily into her eyes. There was a determined glint there that he didn't like one bit.

She walked into the room, not looking near as awkward as he would have expected. That look in her eyes was unnerving. She wasn't supposed to look at him like that. She wasn't supposed to be there at _all_, so what was she doing?

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked. His voice was carefully neutral, but she knew him well. She had probably heard and noted the confusion and discomfort he was desperately trying to conceal.

Could she really blame him though? It had been _four years _since they'd graduated and parted ways, and then she suddenly just shows up in his office. What was he supposed to think?

Hermione absently dragged her hand along his desk as she paced around it, coming to a stop beside him. Glad that he had chosen a chair with wheels for his office, Hermione pulled him around to face her since he seemed disinclined to do it himself.

"Granger, what the _hell _are you doing?" he demanded. There was none of the anger there should have been in his words, so she ignored them in favour of his actions. Actions spoke louder than words anyway.

Seemingly against his will, his hands had risen to rest on her hips when she stepped forward to stand between his legs. That wasn't exactly the best way to send her the signal that she needed to back off.

"Something I should have done years ago."

She caught his eyes and held them as she leaned forward; looking for any sign of genuine displeasure that she was there, any reason for her to turn around and walk right back out of that office.

She didn't find any.

When her lips pressed against his, she felt a jolt of something she hadn't felt in years. In their time apart, she'd told herself that desire had been that missing component in her other relationships, but, together with him again, she knew she'd been lying to herself.

It was something more.

For one blissful moment, he kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm as she expressed. It was a short moment though.

His hands moved from her hips and grabbed her shoulders, using his greater strength to pull her away from him and hold her at a distance.

A _safe _distance. She had obviously taken leave of her senses, and he wouldn't be able to regain his unless she wasn't touching him.

"We can't do this," he insisted.

That nagging part of Hermione's brain agreed wholeheartedly. It was really annoying. Irritably, she shoved it aside, doing the same to his hands.

"Why?"

Maybe he could remind her of the reasons she couldn't seem to remember.

"We can't. This can't happen. I've moved on." he said tightly.

Hermione glanced at his desk. There were no pictures of significant others. "To my knowledge, you've only dated Astoria Greengrass in all the time we've been apart. How is that _moving on_?"

"She was a nice girl," he defended, knowing her point, but refusing to recognise it.

"She married your best mate!" Hermione violently whipped her arm behind her to grab one of the only pictures he had in the office besides the one of his mother. Blaise and Astoria were waving happily at the camera while holding each other. If Hermione had to guess, she'd say this was their honeymoon, as they were obviously somewhere tropical.

"We can't," he insisted again. His attempt at claiming he'd moved on wasn't going to work, so he hoped to appeal to her reasonable side. "You know we can't."

She did know.

It was strange. How could she know they shouldn't be together, yet be completely unable to recall any specific reasons? It was like the solid reasons had been removed from her head, leaving her with only vague echoes.

Vague wasn't good enough to keep her away.

He didn't push her away when she placed a knee on either side of his legs and starting nibbling along his jaw as she pressed her chest against his hard one.

"I have paperwork," he protested feebly.

She ignored the comment.

His head tipped to the side and he groaned as she found that spot behind his ear with her tongue. She took that as permission to distract him from this 'paperwork' he was so concerned with. It probably wasn't very important anyway.

"Granger, this-"

She stopped whatever he was going to say by pressing her hand over his mouth.

"That's not my name. No one will overhear. Call me by my name," she ordered.

"Hermione."

He was using that tone of his. The one he used whenever he thought she was doing something she shouldn't, but he knew that she wasn't going to like it if he tried to talk her out of it.

Hermione wasn't going to let him talk her away. She wanted this, _missed _this – him.

Her darkened eyes connected with his equally story gaze. "I've missed you," she said, the small catch in her voice telling more than her words that she was telling the truth.

The rest of his inhibitions disappeared at that little tremble in her voice. He pulled her tight against him and stood, holding her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Your place or mine?" he asked, his voice low with want.

Hermione wasn't paying much attention; she was rubbing herself against him, enjoying the delicious friction. Her mouth was busy on his neck again.

He had to ask the question twice more lean away a little before she registered that he required an answer.

"Don't care," she mumbled, irritated that he had stopped her for such a stupid reason. It didn't matter _where _they went.

He turned on the spot, popping them out of his office before they did something even _more _inappropriate for the workplace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And also thanks to jocelynnn and Just Your Above Average Malfoy for betaing.**

**I was right, posting the first chapter so I could have you guys motivating me worked. So thanks for that as well! I've now written the first 5 and plan to finish 6 before bed tonight! I also managed to plot out and write chunks of the few chapters after that. I'm pleased with where this is going, so I hope you guys like it as well. **

**~Frosty**

There was a strange sound in the room that was slowly dragging Hermione from the comforting blanket of sleep. Something wasn't quite right with her surroundings. The sheets were too soft, her pillow smelled wrong, and there was an _arm _over her hip.

She blinked her eyes open and immediately wished she hadn't. Her senses had not been deceiving her; she really wasn't in her own bed.

With her heart beating furiously somewhere near her throat, she tried to work out what it was that had happened. Normally she was quicker upon just waking up, but there seemed to be some sort of spell lingering in her mind, interfering with her recollections of a large portion of the previous day. She remembered Ginny visiting, but that was where things started to get cloudy.

Unfortunately, it wasn't difficult for her to puzzle out what it was she'd done. She was naked in bed with an equally naked Draco, so she knew how her night had _ended_; it was really everything else that concerned her. There were important reasons why she hadn't seen Draco for so long, yet at the moment, she was seeing entirely too much of him for her mental stability.

She couldn't help but feel him against her back as solid, welcome warmth despite the knowledge that she shouldn't be there in bed with him.

His mumbling – the sound that had woken her – increased slightly as she tried to wiggle out of his grasp. He only tightened his hold and buried his face in her hair, continuing his mumbling against her neck.

Wasn't this a little trip down memory lane?

Hermione's eyes unwillingly fluttered shut as his lips and breath tickled her skin. It had been so long since she'd felt as cherished as she did at that moment, but the nagging feeling that she couldn't be with him was tugging her away.

She twisted and craned her neck to get a look at his face to make sure he wasn't awake. It was a relief to see that his eyes were still closed. He wasn't consciously trying to stop her from escaping; he was just possessive – even in his sleep. That had been something she'd always loved about him, the way he held her tightly, as if he never wanted to have to let go.

It took some careful manoeuvring, but she eventually managed to free herself from under his arm without waking him.

She was sure there was a rule somewhere about letting sleeping dragons lie. This particular dragon needed to stay asleep because he had an uncanny habit of making her forget things like the logical, safe reasons why she was avoiding him.

Darting her eyes over his face once more as she hopped around trying to put her pants on, Hermione couldn't help but notice that he'd changed since they were together. It really wasn't surprising; most sixteen year old boys weren't finished growing. He was taller, of course, but he had also filled out in the shoulders.

She had to rip her gaze away from him before she gave into her hormones and her stupid heart and just crawled back into bed with him.

Once again, she wondered how she'd ended up in bed with him. Somehow, Hermione had the nagging feeling that Ginny would know.

She could tell from the way he was muttering and shuffling that he was on the verge of waking up. Panicked, she quickly gathered the rest of her scattered garments from the floor and searched frantically for her wand. She _couldn't _be there when he woke up. She just couldn't.

Poking out from under the pillow she'd been sleeping on was a piece of wood. She whipped the pillow away and was immensely relieved to see her wand. How in the world it ended up there, she had no idea. She was just glad she could leave before he was awake.

She turned on the spot and Apparated home just as he blinked his eyes open. Right before she popped out of existence, she caught a flash of disappointment in his grey eyes, and then she was in her own bedroom staring at her familiar walls.

Safe.

Or so she thought. Ginny was waiting on her bed, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

"Did it work?" the redhead asked excitedly, her eyes shining with curiosity.

Hermione looked positively ravished. The normally wild curls were even worse than usual, her bottom lip was slightly swollen from being nipped a tad too hard and she was wearing a man's shirt while carrying her undergarments.

Wait. That last part meant she'd had to escape in a hurry.

Unsure why her friend would want to escape quickly, but sure there was a perfect explanation for it, Ginny refused to let her excitement be ruined. She'd done a _good _thing! Why wasn't Hermione glowing with happiness, or at least looking less uptight? If anything, the brunette looked tenser than before.

Hermione glared. "What _exactly_ did you do to me?"

At the unwarranted hostility, Ginny's eyebrows drew together.

"I cast a spell to make you a little more... aggressive in your search for Mr. Right. Did it work?"

"Oh, it worked all right," Hermione muttered. She _really _didn't want to elaborate. There was so much _explaining _that would have to happen if she was to elaborate, and she'd already managed to avoid telling the story for years. Why should she have to start her explanation now?

Right, because she'd slept with him again after four years of trying to forget him.

"So who was it?" Ginny was practically bouncing with curiosity and excitement. She couldn't believe that her lonely friend had finally gone out and found herself a man, and Hermione had her to thank!

Hermione glared some more. "There were _reasons _that I hadn't done what I did last night, and you _took those away from me_. You have no _idea _what you've done!"

Surprised by the anger in her friend's voice, Ginny unconsciously took a step back. "And what is it that you've done?"

Well, it was obvious _what _she'd done, but Ginny wanted to know _who_ she'd done.

"Something I wasn't supposed to."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. She understood that her friend was upset, but that didn't mean she was allowed to just _withhold information_! "Which would be?"

Tired of mincing words and knowing Ginny would wear her down anyway, Hermione straightened her shoulders and lifted her head. She wasn't going to be ashamed of what she'd done, it just couldn't happen again.

"I slept with Draco Malfoy," she said clearly, drawing on that Gryffindor bravery of hers.

Like a fish out of water, Ginny's mouth soundlessly opened and closed a few times.

"And it's entirely your fault," Hermione added. "What _exactly _did you plan on happening when you cast that?"

The redhead recovered from her shock enough to regain control over her voice.

"I expected you to have a crush on some bookish man you work with at the Ministry, or even give Ron another chance, not shag Malfoy!"

She rushed forward in alarm when Hermione let the bundle of clothes in her arms fall to the floor and sunk down onto her bed.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked in alarm.

The brunette ignored her, burying her face in her hands, her entire demeanour exuding despair. "I can't believe he let me – everything's going to come out now!"

"I'm sure you were persuasive," Ginny said dryly. The book she'd taken her spell from had been very detailed with what the caster should expect from the target of the spell. A complete absence of inhibitions meant all kinds of options for persuasion had been at Hermione's disposal. "Now what is it that you're so worried is going to come out?"

Hermione looked up, tears pooling in her eyes but not yet overflowing. "Everything!"

Starting to understand that maybe she shouldn't have interfered with her friend's love life, Ginny sat down beside the brunette and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Maybe you should start from the beginning and explain this to me."

Hermione waved a hand towards her closet, making the doors open wandlessly. "There a Pensive on the top shelf. It dulls the memories a little to put them in there. I needed them to be dulled," she muttered, confusing Ginny greatly. "It'll be easier to watch than for me to tell you. There's so much you'd need to see to believe."

The redhead crossed the room and looked into the cluttered space Hermione had revealed. To anyone standing at the doors to Hermione's closet, it would appear that there were only dusty books resting on that top shelf. But if Hermione said there was more there, then it must be there, it was probably just hidden.

She had to shift several heavy volumes around, but Ginny eventually found a box containing a small Pensive. How had she not known Hermione had one of these? It was like there was this side to her friend that she hadn't even been aware of.

The tears in Hermione's eyes had vanished by the time Ginny perched on the bed beside her. She sat the pensive on the bed between them and looked questioningly at her friend.

Before she could change her mind, Hermione grabbed Ginny's fingers and thrust their clasped hands into the swirling silver liquid.

_They fell into a scene that was familiar to Hermione, but completely foreign to Ginny. It was the Room of Requirement, a place Hermione and Draco had spent much of their time together. The room had been changed to hold comfortable sofas, a warm, crackling fire, and several shelves of books. It was the perfect place to curl up and read._

_The setting wasn't what had Ginny gaping; it was what was happening that completely threw her. A young Draco was laying on his back reading, while Hermione was using his bent legs as a backrest, also reading. As they watched, the memory Hermione tipped her head back to rest on his knees and looked at him upside-down to say something. They both laughed, Draco looking happier than Ginny had ever seen him. _

"_This isn't it," real Hermione mumbled. She waved her hand and the figures in front of them disappeared into clouds of silver smoke. When their surroundings reassembled themselves, Ginny and Hermione were facing an entirely different scene._

_The Great Hall was full of people, but it was almost completely silent. The few voices around them were all hushed and worried. Some of the people assembled were crying, muffling the sound in their hands or a friendly shoulder._

_Ginny's eyes widened as she recognised when they were. This was Hogwarts right before the Final Battle. In only moments the fighting would start._

"_What are we doing here?" she asked Hermione in a quiet voice. The tension in the air was affecting her, even if she knew that this memory had happened years earlier._

_Hermione didn't answer with words, she merely pointed to the younger version of herself, who was just slipping out of the doors. _

_They followed her, Ginny looking confused, while Hermione looked pained._

_When a masked Death Eater approached the younger Hermione as she walked past a dark corridor, Ginny reached for her wand to help before she remembered she couldn't do anything. Whatever was about to take place had happened long ago; there was nothing she could possible do for her friend. Ginny hoped it wasn't too horrible._

_She'd never heard that Hermione had been attacked before the Final Battle. Had the Death Eaters been in the castle sooner than she'd thought? The real Hermione didn't seem inclined to share any answers, so she watched the younger version closely._

_That younger Hermione wasn't all that concerned that a Death Eater had snatched her into a dark hallway. She seemed perfectly comfortable in his arms. In fact, she pulled off his mask and put her arms around his neck to bring his face down so she could kiss him._

_Ginny was so confused. She'd been under the impression that Malfoy hadn't fought in the final battle, yet the blond hair of the person the younger Hermione was entangled with was a dead giveaway. _

"_You know if I do this, we can't be together," Malfoy said to Hermione when they broke apart._

_She nodded sadly. _

"_No one can find out you betrayed that many Pureblooded families. They're well-funded and ruthless; you'd never be safe again. Being with me would only make it worse; I'd be like a flashing sign saying you're a blood traitor."_

_He shook his head. "You know better than that; those inbred sheep aren't why we won't work after this. We'd both be in danger, and I refuse to let that happen." His breath shook as he inhaled deeply, preparing himself for what was to come. "When I step outside the castle, we don't know each other except as classmates who have never got along," he said, looking deeply sad._

_Older Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was thoroughly confused. "He led Death Eaters into traps during the battle. He's the reason there were so few casualties on our side," she explained, unable to rip her eyes from the scene in front of them. There was a hungry longing in her eyes that spoke volumes._

_Nodding, the redhead turned back to the scene in front of her. _

_The younger Hermione was obviously only holding herself together by sheer force of will. She threw herself into his arms and kissed him fiercely, clinging to the robes that represented the opposition to everything she represented._

"_You're forbidden to die," she whispered when they broke apart, resting their foreheads together. _

_There was a loud bang from the direction of grounds, signalling that the battle had begun. "Be careful. And I lo-" _

_He cut her off with a kiss._

"_Don't say it; it'll just make this harder," he growled, finally extracting himself from her hold. _

_His hands were steady as he put on his mask once again. "You too," he added. _

_Hermione was silent as she watched him walk away for a moment before whipping around and running back to the Great Hall to do her part in the battle._

"_You had a... thing with him at Hogwarts?" Ginny asked._

_The memory swirled into grey smoke once more before Hermione and Ginny were transported back to her bedroom._

Hermione nodded. "For most of sixth year. We knew from the beginning that it was going to have to end before we left school, which is why it was so stupid of me to let myself get so attached."

Abruptly, Hermione stood from the bed and stalked across the room, roughly shoving the Pensive back into its place deep in the dusty closet.

"He didn't come back for seventh year, so we haven't seen each other except for at Ministry events since then."

Ginny looked thoughtful. "Hermione... are you sure it's such a horrible thing that you've seen him again?"

"Yes! All the reasons we had back in school for ending it are still very much there. If we started something now, we'd just end up the same as before; hurt and unhappy."

The words 'you already are' were on the tip of Ginny's tongue, but she didn't get to say them. They both jumped when someone knocked sharply on the front door.

"Are you expecting someone?" Ginny asked.

"No, but my friends seem to have a habit of showing up unannounced." Hermione's words were accompanied by a pointed look.

The redhead pretended to have no idea what her friend was talking about.

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione went to get the door.

Merlin help them if it was someone selling something or trying to get her to join their church. She wasn't sure she could restrain herself from hexing them if they were solicitors.

She pulled open the door without even looking through the peephole to see who was on the other side. The irritated order to leave her alone was stalled before it could leave her mouth.

She had a feeling he wasn't there to try and sell her something.

He raised a pale eyebrow. "Do you always answer the door dressed like that?"

Her heart hurt just seeing him again. He was still an arse a lot of the time, but he hadn't changed much since school. He still didn't like it when he was denied something, and in this case his unhappiness was directed at her; she had denied him an explanation for the previous night.

She was going to have to revert to hostility; maybe she could chase him off.

"How do you even know where I live?" she demanded. She was replacing her embarrassment with anger; she'd completely forgotten that she wasn't wearing any undergarments, but Draco obviously noticed. It didn't help that she was wearing _his _shirt. She should have taken a moment to dress properly _before _showing Ginny the memory.

"I made it my business to know where you moved after Hogwarts."

_Why_ did he keep doing things like that? First he told her they would never have any contact with her, and then he says he'd made sure to keep track of her. He says he doesn't want to see her again and then has little problem with shagging her.

The man was a bundle of contradictions.

Although if she was going to be fair, she supposed her signals hadn't exactly been _clear_. What with the whole sleeping with him after five years of doing her very best to pretend he didn't exist and whatnot.

"Are you going to let me in, or are we waiting for one of your neighbours to come out here and get an eyeful of some new wank material?" he asked.

He knew just how to push her buttons.

With a glare, Hermione stepped back and let him inside. She caught a glimpse of Ginny's hair as she peeked around the corner to see who it had been at the door.

"Listen, Malfoy," Hermione started. She planned on just telling him the previous night had been some sort of accident and could never happen again, but he raised that blasted _eyebrow _again.

"I'm _Malfoy _again, am I?"

The tiny flicker of hurt that briefly burned in his eyes made her heart ache even worse. Merlin, he was going to be her undoing! Mentally berating herself for weakening against him, she forced a scowl onto her face.

"What did you expect? We can't do this!"

"So – what? Last night was just a one off?"

"I was under a spell."

She knew she was hurting him. Hell, she was hurting herself! But the danger that existed four years ago was still very much present, and they'd both seen more than enough violence to last several lifetimes. She could never forgive herself if he was killed because of her.

"Bullshit," he proclaimed.

Startled, Hermione whipped her wandering, watering eyes back to his face.

Having noticed that he had her full attention once again, Draco continued. "You're hard-headed enough that nothing short of the Imperious curse could make you do something you truly didn't want to – and somehow I doubt even _that _would be enough. You came to my office because you _wanted _to."

How she loved him so much when he was so infuriating, she'd never know. Hermione propped he hands on her hips, angry fire in her eyes. "I was under a spell that made me forget all the reasons why I shouldn't be there."

His lips twisted into a slightly bitter smirk. "Now we're getting somewhere. You're scared of the consequences. Ashamed of me are you, love?"

Feeling a little bit like a child, Hermione crossed her arms. She managed to resist the urge to stomp her foot – barely.

"Am not!"

It was amazing that this one man could bring out her inner five-year-old _and _her inner seductress within a few hours of each other.

Draco didn't buy her feeble protests for a second; he could read the truth in her expressive eyes. Taking a few steps to close the little space between them, Draco stared down at her, towering over her shorter frame.

"Are too," he said with none of her vehemence and a knowing smirk on his lips. "I was willing to let this go because I thought you were over us, that you had moved on, but obviously you're not. Little miss brave Gryffindor is afraid of what a few pissed off Purebloods will do, so she's making the both of us miser-"

Hermione cut him off by throwing her arms around his neck and mashing her lips against his, taking him completely by surprise.

It didn't take him long to respond just as vigorously as Hermione was.

Ginny slipped away, her mind bursting with questions. She knew Hermione needed some time with Draco to sort everything out, but Hermione hadn't answered everything she wanted to know. They obviously still cared very much about each other, but they were both very different people than the wide-eyed children they'd been before the Final Battle. They needed some time to adjust to their new-again relationship.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**A/N: A huge thanks to Amortentia Veritaserum and jocelynnn for their beta work! Also thanks to all you wonderful reviewers. I actually rewrote this chapter a few times before I had something I felt I could actually published, so I hope you like it!**

**~Frosty**

When she woke up the next morning, Hermione experienced none of the horror she'd felt yesterday upon waking. Instead of the crushing anxiety mixed with shame she remembered from the previous day, her entire being was surrounded with glowing happiness. It was a vast improvement.

The one thing she'd wanted so much, and for so long that it was almost painful was suddenly in her grasp – in her _bed_. Two days ago she would never have thought something so wonderful could possibly happen. She would thank Ginny, but she didn't want to encourage the redhead to try a similar stunt in the future.

She smiled as Draco shifted beside her and drew her closer. All those years separating them and it almost felt like nothing had changed. Of course she knew they were different people and were going to have to rework some of their relationship, but if there had been anything solid there in the first place, they'd survive. They were risking so much just for a chance at being together again, they _had to_ survive.

"This is way better than yesterday morning," he murmured against the skin at the back of her neck, a hint of reproach in his voice.

She blushed; glad he was behind her so he probably couldn't see her face. It wouldn't do for him to see the effect he had on her, both in the telltale stain on her cheeks, and the way her eyes fluttered closed at the brush of his lips.

"I may have panicked a little," she said, pleased that her voice came out strong and clear instead of the whisper she'd feared.

"A _little_?" Without having to look, she knew he had an eyebrow raised sardonically.

Because he couldn't see her face, Hermione indulged herself a little by pursing her lips in irritation at his tone. She didn't want him to know that he was getting to her.

"Can you really blame me? I was under the influence of a spell, slept with you, and then woke up in your bed with all the things that had been keeping me from that exact place back in my head, practically screaming at me."

Draco tugged on her shoulder, turning her on her back and resting his weight on his elbows so he could trap her there.

"I thought we'd already established that no one makes you do something you don't want to do. You're just making excuses for yourself." His voice wasn't particularly sharp, but his eyes were flashing with warning; he wasn't going to let her defend herself with lies.

"You didn't have a spell blocking all your inhibitions and you didn't exactly resist me!" Hermione accused, glaring up at him.

Smirking, he lowered himself down on top of her. "What can I say? You were persuasive."

Hermione smiled and held him tight against her, enjoying the weight of him. He was solid and _real, _something she hadn't thought she was going to feel again.

"I've missed you _so much_," she whispered.

"I know how you feel."

They lay there, just basking in each other's presence.

"What are we going to do about those people that are sure to come after us?" she asked.

Draco tilted his head forward to rest on her shoulder while he ruminated on the problem. "I think – and I can't believe I'm going to say this – that telling Potter might be a good place to start."

He scrunched up his face in distaste; even _mentioning _going to Potter for help left a nasty taste in his mouth. It was the taste of a lifetime of rivalry revolting against his need for assistance. He hoped Hermione appreciated the lengths he was willing to go to in order to keep her safe.

"At the moment, Ginny and your secretary are the only ones who know this has happened. We could try to keep it a secret for as long as possible; give us time to mount a defence."

She couldn't bring herself to look at him while he said it, instead focusing on the ugly purple curtains she had in her bedroom. If her eyes connected with his, she knew she'd see accusation in the mercurial depths looking back at her. Accusation that she was scared what her friends would think of them together.

He wouldn't be entirely wrong.

Draco had an idea about what was going through her head, and even being pressed up against the one he loved couldn't completely clear the hurt and anger he felt. They'd survived a war and their lives were possibly in danger, but she still put her bloody friends ahead of everything.

"Hermione, eventually, someone's going to find out about us and then all hell's going to break loose," he said seriously. "I think we should strike preemptively and get it out now. That way, we can control how it leaks to the public."

She shook her head. "We're not ready yet. There's so much we need to discuss, and it's going to take time. Besides, we managed to keep us a secret in school; it should be much easier now that we don't have to share one living space with hundreds of other teenagers."

When he didn't answer, Hermione twisted her head and leaned back until she could see his face. His lips were pressed together in a tight line and he wasn't quite meeting her eyes.

"Someone knew?" she whispered.

For years, she'd thought that no one had known of their secret relationship, and the entire time, there had been someone out there with knowledge that could have gotten both her and Draco killed. She had a right to know who Draco would trust enough to risk both their lives just to tell.

"You never wondered why my parents switched sides so easily?" he asked, tangible hesitation in his words.

Her eyebrows drew together. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had been feeding information to the Order alongside their son for a whole month before the Final Battle. Hermione had always assumed that they'd just seen the light and realized they'd been supporting the wrong side. She realized now that she'd been ridiculous; they wouldn't just spontaneously trade in a lifetime of blood supremacist values.

"When I told them that I'd fallen for someone they wouldn't approve of and that they had the choice of accepting that and helping me or losing me, they decided that maybe they were on the wrong side after all. It helped that Voldemort terrorized his Death Eaters and their families just as much as he terrorized his enemies."

Hermione took a slow, deep breath. Everything she'd thought she'd known had just been turned on its head. He'd told his parents about her, and instead of disowning him, they'd joined the Order in their fight against Voldemort.

Lucius had been killed in the Final Battle, but Narcissa was alive and well, and one day, Hermione may have to meet the woman.

The idea was terrifying.

"Hermione?" he asked, smoothing her hair away from her face to get a better look at her eyes. He hated it when he needed to see what emotions were swirling around in her honey orbs, but they were covered by that hair of hers. That didn't mean he hated her hair though, quite the opposite. He liked nothing more than to tangle his hands into that unruly hair and kiss her until they were both completely breathless.

Anxiety. That was the emotion reflected in the depths of her eyes.

"Will you think less of me if I told you I'm slightly terrified of your mother?" she asked.

Draco smiled wryly. "She has that effect on people."

They fell into silence once more, both of them thinking hard about their future. While it was a murky and unsure, neither one of them wanted to fathom a future without the other.

"I still think we should try to keep us quiet until someone finds out. It would give us some time before we have to worry for our lives again," Hermione said.

Draco wasn't so sure secrecy was the best option, but he nodded. He'd go along with it until a better course of action presented itself.

Having got her way, Hermione smiled radiantly. She hooked a leg over his hips and arched against him. "How about I make up for leaving you yesterday morning?" she asked.

The blond was more than happy to accept her offer.

* * *

><p>Their bliss lasted a week before the real world started to encroach on them and erode little cracks in their happiness.<p>

It all started as a harmless enough event; Hermione had been walking home from work to enjoy an unseasonably nice day, when she was stopped on the street next to the Ministry by someone who needed directions.

In her usual thorough way, she gave the man detailed directions and a smile before going on her way again. She thought it was slightly off that he was wearing robes with a hood that almost entirely covered his face on such a nice day, but who was she to judge based on clothing? The Wizarding World was just fraught with interesting characters.

That should have been that, but when she happened to glance over her shoulder several blocks later, she saw him behind her.

Shooting covert glances over her shoulder and with her hand tightly gripping her wand, Hermione had walked a few blocks in the wrong direction just to check that he was actually following her.

He was.

The face-covering hood Hermione had thought was one of those Wizarding fashion oddities was suddenly much more menacing.

Starting to get concerned, Hermione slipped into the nearest alley and Apparated back to her flat. The fresh air wasn't worth picking up a stalker and endangering herself.

Despite her best efforts to keep herself calm, Hermione was still shaken by the experience. Logical thinking didn't do much when to banish her fears when it was obvious that the man had been following her.

When Draco visited that night after work, she told him all about the encounter.

His reaction probably shouldn't have surprised her, but she sometimes forgot how fierce he could be because he was usually so gentle with her.

"I'll take care of it," he said, pressing his lips into a firm line while his eyes darkened dangerously. The expression didn't bode well for whoever it was that had followed her.

Hermione didn't doubt that Draco would be perfectly willing to do things that would land him in Azkaban if she didn't reign in his temper with her logic.

"Draco, I can take care of myself. I didn't tell you because I needed it 'taken care of." She wasn't fond of keeping things from him, which is why she'd told him about the little incident. Unfortunately, she'd forgotten his tendency to take thing to the extreme when it came to those he cared about.

"I'm not just going to sit idly by while strange men follow you home from work, especially when we're doing something that will make people want to kill us." He paced towards her and reached out as if to pull her close before deciding better of it and stalking back to the other side of the room.

Hermione wanted to reach for him, but instead she wrapped her arms around her middle to stop herself. It wouldn't do either of them any good if she clung to him while trying to talk reason through his thick skull. Physical contact would just distract him from the important issues.

"Draco..."

"You can't stay here," he said, suddenly turning to face her again.

Hermione knew she was going to have to put her foot down, or he'd have her in a safe house in another country before she could even organise her protests. "I fought a war against those very people who may want us dead. You fought as well. We are two of the best duellists the Order had to offer, we can take whatever they throw at us."

The tense line of his lips didn't loosen. She wasn't convincing him. They both of them knew that even the best duellists could be defeated by a lucky shot or sheer numbers.

"Come stay at the Manor with me for the night, just to be safe. Mother will be happy to see me and she'll be delighted to meet you properly," he said, pleading with his mercurial orbs in a way that he would never dare with his words. "The wards there are centuries old and even more impenetrable than those of Hogwarts."

Her brown eyes flared in surprise. She hadn't expected to have to visit his mother and their ancestral home so soon.

If she gave him an inch, she knew he'd take a mile. If Hermione let him take her to the Manor for the night, he's have her in a safe house by the end of the week, locked away where no one would be able to find her.

With his near limitless resources and determination, they could be living in a different country under fake names in a few days. For her, it was a worrying thought, but for Draco, it was probably the back-up plan.

"Draco, I'm perfectly safe here," she said slowly, hoping he'd somehow see it her way if she allowed enough time for it to sink in. "I don't need to go to the Manor."

He crossed the room again and ran his hands up and down her arms in a soothing gesture. There had been a little panic in her voice at the mention of his childhood home, reminding him what had happened the last time she was there. Had she not been dead, Draco would have killed Bellatrix himself for what she did to Hermione right there on the dining-room floor while he'd been forced to watch. It had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do to just stand there, looking on as his love was tortured. He'd been just about to intervene when Potter, Weasley and his old House Elf, Dobby had saved her. Never had he been more thankful for Potter and his hero-complex.

"We won't go anywhere near that room," he said.

"_That's _not why I don't want to go." The torture was something she'd put behind her, only recalling it in her nightmares. "It's just unnecessary. I'm perfectly safe here."

She could read the remorse in his eyes and knew what it was he thought was stopping her from going to the Manor with him. He was wrong. His mother was what terrified her, not a _room_. He wasn't going to believe that though, the git was determined to blame himself for everything that had happened to her that night.

Suddenly, the tables turned and it was _her _comforting _him_. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and tucked her head against his chest. "Nothing that happened to me there was your fault," she said firmly as her hands rubbed up and down his back.

"Of course it was my fault! If I had figured out some way to get you out of there as soon as I recognised you and Potter, then nothing would have happened to you." He clutched her against him, as if he could save her by keeping her as close to him as possible.

"Don't think for a moment that I don't know what you're doing," Hermione said against his collarbone. There was genuine pain in his voice, and she didn't doubt that he was voicing his real thoughts, but the moment she realized that going to the Manor and showing that the place itself didn't bother her would absolve him of some of that guilt, she'd figured out his game.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied. There was a tiny quirk of his lips that said something entirely different than his words.

Hermione sighed. He was being a manipulative bastard, but just because he was taking advantage of the situation didn't mean the feelings behind the manipulation weren't real.

"Fine, we'll spend one night at the Manor, but you're going to have to swear that you're not going to overreact every time something small like this happens. I refuse to be manipulated like that."

"I make no promises," he said with a grin, turning them on the spot and Apparating them before she had a chance to change her mind.

The difference in atmosphere was almost instant and impossible to miss. Hermione's home was warm and scented with apple cinnamon from the candles she liked to have burning when she was home. In comparison, the Manor was cold and smelled of something both expensive and somehow unwelcoming. The scent made one feel out of place and common in comparison to its luxuriance.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in Draco's arms, feeling nauseous from the trip over. Side-along Apparation was uncomfortable at best; she had to fight not to throw up all over the expensive flooring.

"Alright?" Draco asked, stepping away from her, but keeping a hold on her elbow to support her.

"You could have warned me," she grumbled.

He shrugged, only mildly apologetic. "Had I given you time to think on it, you would have come up with reasons to say no. I didn't want to give you time to get that big brain of yours working on excuses."

Hermione glared at him, but as she started to feel better, she began noticing their surroundings. While the Manor was still cold and impersonal, it was no longer the dark, unwelcoming place she'd seen before. Getting rid of the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord had done wonders for the atmosphere.

"Draco, how nice of you to finally decide to visit me," a cool voice flowed into the room, almost immediately followed by Narcissa Malfoy. The blonde woman paused for a moment when she saw that her son wasn't alone.

"Mother, Hermione and I are together again. Someone followed her today, so we're going to stay here for the night, just to be safe," Draco said, summarizing very important events into two short sentences.

Narcissa nodded, unable to hide her curiosity as she looked at Hermione. Something about that girl had provoked her son into forgetting over seventeen years of values, so she had to be something special.

"It's nice to finally meet you officially," Hermione said, showing her usual Gryffindor bravery as she stepped forward and offered her hand.

Glancing at her son with a slightly raised eyebrow, Narcissa accepted the offered hand. She approved of this spunky Muggleborn. Anyone who could make a hard-headed Malfoy man change his mind was a force to be reckoned with.

They shook briefly before Hermione released the older woman's hand and stepped back to stand beside Draco once more.

Pleasantries out of the way, the three stood in uncomfortable silence. Narcissa had been raised to know the art of small talk and how to properly banish awkward pauses in conversation, but at this moment, the skill seemed to have escaped her.

"I'll just leave you two alone. Draco, I trust you'll show her around like a good host." She left them, heading back into the depths of the house.

Hermione and Draco shared a look. "I guess I'll show you to my room."

She nodded and followed him thought the twisting corridors of Malfoy Manor. Hopefully, she'd never have to go anywhere without him because she wasn't confident she'd ever find her way out of the labyrinth of long hallways and strangely spaced doors. She felt like the walls were closing in on her, and the only reason she wasn't crushed was because Draco was there with her and he'd be crushed as well should something go wrong.

Her relief was huge when Draco finally opened a door and ushered her inside. The room was – predictably – a Slytherin green with wood floors and expensive plush carpets. On the walls were old Quidditch and band posters as well as a few newspaper clippings. It was the newspaper clippings that immediately caught her attention.

The faded bits of paper didn't quite fit with the rest of the decorations. Hermione walked forward to investigate, running her fingers over the yellowed parchment. They were all about her. Some of them directly, some of them only mentioned her in passing, but she was in them all.

She turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

Draco looked slightly embarrassed. "During the war, the paper was the only way I could know for sure that you were alive. I could pretend I was keeping track of the Golden Trio for the Dark Lord, but I wasn't allowed any personal pictures that would have spoken of an attachment I wasn't supposed to have."

Her eyes burned as tears welled, some of them overflowing to dot her lashes with sparkling droplets. While he'd been under immense pressure and an almost constant threat on his life from the psychopath living in his home, he'd still found time to be worried about her as well.

She rushed over to him and squeezed him tightly. "It seems we both completely failed at severing our relationship cleanly," she said into his shirt, spotting the fabric with her tears.

Draco didn't mind that his shirt was getting wet. He kissed the top of her head. "That we did."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**A/N: It's a cold, icky day here. It's ten degrees out (Celsius) and there's a misty stuff raining down. It's a day to stay inside wrapped in a warm blanket (I dread having to go outside for class this afternoon). For anyone else plagued with horrible weather, here's a new chapter!**

**As always, thanks to all you wonderful reviewers and to jocelynnn and ****Amortentia Veritaserum for betaing!**

**~Frosty**

Hermione sighed. She was tired, she had to work in the morning, and she _couldn't fall asleep_! Wiggling around uncomfortably on Draco's ridiculously expensive and soft sheets, she tried to settle herself better on the incredibly soft mattress. Had she been able to sleep, it would have felt like she was sleeping on a cloud.

Continuing to wiggle, she twisted onto her stomach, burying her face in a pillow. In the process of working up a monumentally foul mood, she stayed that way until she started to run out of air. Reluctantly emerging from under the pillow, she turned her head to the side and glared at the wall while sighing.

When she reached her fifth sigh, Draco rolled towards her and slipped an arm around her waist, dragging her across the soft sheets until she was pressed against him.

"What's got you twisted up in knots?" he mumbled against her shoulder. "Are you frightened?" If there had been anything but concern in his voice at the second question, Hermione would have hexed him. However, he was only asking out of genuine care and worry, so she let it go.

"I'm not scared of Malfoy Manor. It's just so... unwelcoming here. I feel like the house itself is looming menacingly over me, waiting for its moment to strike."

Draco nodded, his silky hair ticking her ear and neck with his movement.

It was a testament to how distraught she was that she didn't even experience the usual wave of goose bumps from the delicate touch. Contact with Draco rarely failed to illicit a strong physical reaction from her.

"Nothing's going to happen to you; I won't let it," he said adamantly.

While Hermione melted a little at the proclamation, she knew he couldn't possibly protect her from everything. Besides, she didn't want him to protect her if the cost was his own safety. Hermione wasn't the type to just sit back while her loved ones risked their lives to save her won.

When they'd been younger, it hadn't taken much to come between them. Now, older and wiser, Hermione wasn't going to let a vague threat on her life and a creepy stalker keep her from Draco now that they'd found each other again after their years apart.

She would rather risk death while in his arms than have to spend all of her time missing him again.

"No one can promise that," she said with yet another sigh.

How she wished a few pretty words could keep death at bay. Unfortunately, the universe didn't work that way.

"Maybe not, but I can do everything in my power. I'm not a helpless teenager anymore; my power is considerable." There was the slightest hint of a smug smirk on his lips that actually made her feel better; if he could use the situation to gloat about his influence, then it made their situation seem a tad less serious.

She snuggled against him, hoping that he wasn't going to get in over his head with people who wanted the both of them dead.

There was a niggling feeling in the back of her mind that told her he was _already_ in over his head – the both of them were.

* * *

><p>After a long night of tossing and turning, Hermione blearily blinked her eyes open. She was hoping she was in her own bed and not at the Manor, where she was going to have to deal with Narcissa and the constant feeling that the Malfoy ancestral home was trying to kill her.<p>

Blinking a few times to get her tired pupils to focus, she sighed. No such luck; she was still at the Manor and still felt completely unwelcome.

She rolled over to find that Draco wasn't beside her.

Lovely, he'd left her alone so his house could kill her in her sleep or something. It was all an elaborate plot to get rid of her... or something. Her poor, sleep addled mind was having difficulty coming up with any good conspiracy theories.

Before she could start to put serious thought into where he could have gone, he wandered in wearing only a towel.

"Mother likes breakfast at eight sharp, and she's going to be expecting us soon," he said by way of greeting.

Hermione glanced at the clock before turning a glare on Draco. They were expected for breakfast in fifteen minutes, she didn't even have time for a shower.

Looking slightly sheepish, Draco shrugged. "You didn't sleep most of the night so I figured you could use a bit of a lie-in."

Irritated, she whipped the covers off and stood, immediately bringing a hand to her head in an attempt to sooth the headache that had made an appearance the moment she was upright. She could already tell it was going to be a wonderful day.

It was close, but Hermione managed to quickly shower and make herself presentable in the little time Draco had allowed her.

Her anger towards the blond had abated somewhat as she'd readied herself; he had only wanted her to get some more sleep. By not waking her, he'd limited the time she spent worrying over dinner with his mother and maximized her sleeping time. He'd only had her best interests in mind.

Unfortunately, her headache didn't abate with her anger. It seemed to be determined to linger for the day.

She made sure to stick close to Draco as they once again navigated the maze-like corridors.

Hermione wasn't even going to attempt going somewhere in his house on her own. There was bravery and then there was stupidity; stupidity would be ignoring her instincts that were telling her she wouldn't quite be safe wandering the halls on her own.

When they arrived in the dining room, Narcissa was already seated, delicately picking at a plate of fruit set in the middle of the intimidating table.

It was such a large table; Hermione had no doubt that two people on opposite ends wouldn't be able to hold a conversation without the assistance of magic. She was sure it had come in handy when the Manor had housed to Voldemort. To preserve her meagre appetite, Hermione had to force thoughts of the horrible things that had probably happened around the large piece of furniture from her mind.

After pulling a chair out for Hermione across the table from his mother, Draco settled beside the brunette.

"I trust you slept well?" the Malfoy matriarch asked politely.

Hermione, not wanting to be rude, smiled and nodded. "Very well, thank you."

"I suggest you try the eggs Benedict, the Malfoy elves make the best anywhere," Draco said to Hermione. She frowned at the mention of House Elves but wasn't going to get into her disapproval of the creatures in front of his mother. She wanted to make a good impression, and she had a feeling that campaigning to free their slaves wasn't the way to do that.

With a nod and a weak smile at Draco, she agreed that the eggs Benedict sounded lovely.

There was laughter in his eyes at her pained expression, but she couldn't understand what about the situation it was that he found so amusing.

Draco summoned an elf with a snap of his fingers and placed the order, covertly watching Hermione for a reaction out of the corner of his eyes.

Hermione didn't hear a word he said, she was entirely focused on the tiny dress the elf was wearing. On the creature's petite frame was a tiny pink dress with the Malfoy crest stamped on the skirt.

Clothes on House Elves could only mean one thing, but she couldn't believe what her eyes were telling her. It was too difficult to fathom.

"Draco insisted we free all the Malfoy elves almost the moment the war was over," Narcissa said, watching Hermione closely.

Brown eyes wide, she turned to stare at Draco, who merely shrugged. He was looking slightly uncomfortable again. Doing good deeds was apparently embarrassing for him. It was kind of cute.

Forgetting that his mother was sitting across the table from them, Hermione threw her arms around Draco and pressed a hard kiss against his slack and surprised mouth. His moment of hesitation before responding reminded Hermione whose company they were in and she released him abruptly, her face burning.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, resisting the urge to press her hands against her cheeks in an effort to cool their heat. "That was very kind of you to do," she said, her discomfort increasing rapidly.

Smirking, Draco patted her shoulder, only making it worse for her.

Narcissa looked between the two before letting out a trill of laughter. "You, Miss Granger, are a delight. I can see why Draco is so fond of you."

Their eggs appeared in front of them at that moment, to Hermione's immense relief. They saved her from having to think up an answer besides a smile of thanks.

As it turned out, Draco had been telling the truth. The eggs really were the best Hermione had ever tasted. The food tasted even better because she knew it was made by elves with vacation time and wages.

Breakfast was finished in relative silence but there was less tension in the room. Hermione felt a little more accepted, even though she still suspected that the Manor would have liked her dead if it could have managed it. Maybe she was just imagining things, or maybe it was some type of post-traumatic stress from her previous visit, but when dealing with magic – particularly the dark variety – it was better to be careful. She was going to avoid the Manor as much as possible in the future.

Narcissa bid them farewell at the fireplace, tilting her head for a kiss on the cheek from Draco, and surprising Hermione with a delicate hug and a double cheek kiss that shocked the brunette. If she didn't know better, Hermione would think that Narcissa actually _liked _her.

When they were safely through the Floo and back in her flat, Draco confirmed this observation.

He kissed her quickly on the top of her head and said proudly, "Mother approves, I can tell."

Releasing her from his hold, he withdrew his wand and left to prowl the few rooms of her relatively small flat for stalkers or other ill-wishers.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his concern; if someone unwelcome had entered her flat, then her wards would have warned her. She'd cast them herself, so Hermione was confident in the strength of her wards. Draco wasn't going to listen to reason though, it was best that she let him prowl around and get his male desire to protect her against a threat that wasn't really there out of his system.

Secretly, it made her feel better that he was going over all the rooms before leaving her alone, but she wasn't going to tell him that. It would probably encourage him.

Her heart jumped into her throat and her hand whipped to her wand at the sound of a thud and then a bang coming from her bedroom. He'd actually _found _someone?

She raced over to see Draco had Ginny at wand-point, both of them ruffled from a scuffle.

"Draco! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Hermione demanded.

He didn't lower is wand. "Ask her something only the real She-Weasel would know."

Ginny looked bewildered, but that was rapidly giving way to rage. Someone was going to suffer a bat-bogey hex if she wasn't released immediately.

"What did I say to you when Ron and I ended our relationship?" Hermione asked.

With a glare at her friend for going along with the insane blond and his overreactions, Ginny answered. "It's a trick question. He kissed you during the final battle, but you never actually _had _a relationship with him." Her face turned thoughtful. "Although the night after that kiss, you told me that your heart wasn't yours to give anymore, and a relationship with Ron could never work." She glanced at Draco, who had started to lower his wand. "I didn't understand it at the time, but it's making more sense now. He had it all along, didn't he?"

Hermione nodded.

Glancing between the pair, Draco put his wand away completely. Hermione was perfectly safe with the redhead, but he had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before the youngest Weasley hexed him.

He was touched by the conversation, but didn't want to show it in front of the Weaslette; he was a stoic Slytherin and all that. Instead, he walked over to Hermione, wrapped an arm around her and laid a quick kiss on her temple, ignoring the look Ginny was shooting his way.

"I have to go to work," he said. It was the truth, but he'd been planning on going in a little late – he was the boss and all that, making his own hours. However, if they were going to have some girl time or whatever it was the females did when there were no men around, then he was going to get some work done. He could always leave work early to spend some extra time with Hermione once the irritating redhead was gone.

As soon as they were alone, Hermione turned to her friend, who had perched on the edge of her bed. The irritated expression was gone from Ginny's face, having melted into a sober look.

"Ginny? Is there something wrong?" Hermione asked, slightly worried by her friend's uncharacteristic seriousness. She crossed the room and perched on the sofa beside the redhead.

Ginny looked uncomfortable. "Nothing wrong, just cramps. You know how it is..."

"I have some potions you can take," Hermione offered. "They're quite effective."

"Won't you need them?"

Hermione couldn't figure out why her friend seemed almost _hopeful _that she would have cramps bad enough to need to take a potion in order to function properly. The whole visit didn't quite make sense.

"Ginny, why were you in my room?" she asked with a hint of suspicion. Maybe Draco's paranoia was contagious, or maybe Ginny didn't inspire trust what with her recent covert spell work, but Hermione knew that something was off.

Ginny wasn't the type to forget a necessity like cramp-relieving potion when it was her time of the month, so there had to be something else on her mind.

"I want answers!" the redhead burst out.

At Hermione's confused expression, she elaborated.

"Hermione, you've kind of brought me into the story at the ending. I want to know how it _started_."

Knowing this conversation was a long time coming and that Ginny had been nice and allowed her some time with Draco before she started the inquisition, Hermione prepared for a long night of explanations. Underhanded methods or not, Ginny had brought her and Draco together again, so the least Hermione could do was tell a story she'd been keeping from everyone for years.

"What do you want to know?" she asked with a sigh.

"How did you go from hating each other to..." she gestured vaguely in the direction Draco had disappeared in. "That."

Hermione crinkled her nose in distaste. She had never shared the story with anyone, it felt a little like she was about to expose an important part of herself that she'd kept hidden from everyone. Something about keeping a secret for so long made it second nature to protect that secret.

"It never would have happened if Draco didn't have a tendency to wander the halls late at night. He'd been having trouble sleeping from all the stress he was under..."

_Glancing behind her, Hermione darted from one shadow to the next, hoping she wouldn't be caught out of bed after hours. It was the middle of winter and the castle was freezing. Every winter it was as if the cold stone of the walls and floors absorbed the frigid temperatures from outside and repelled the warmth offered by the fires burning throughout the place. _

_She was trying to be quick and as stealthy as she made her way back to the Gryffindor common room. Ever since the rift that had developed between her and Ron over his recent relationship with Lavender, Hermione had been avoiding Gryffindor tower as much as possible by spending long hours in the library and sometimes the Room of Requirement._

_With one last frantic look up and down the corridor, Hermione paced back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall, asking for a quiet place where she could study. Pleased with herself for having thought of using the Room of Requirement for studying, she pulled open the door that had appeared with a tiny smile of congratulations._

_The first thing she saw was a pair of startled grey eyes staring at her. _

"_Malfoy?" she gasped._

_Sure, she'd been seeing less and less of him at dinner and in classes, but she'd always just assumed that he was hiding away in the Slytherin dorms on the few occasions when she'd given the matter any thought at all._

"_Get out of here Granger!" he snapped, his voice laden with the venom that only years of enmity could provide. However, underneath that venom was a desperation that hadn't been there in his younger years._

_Hermione ignored him and pushed farther into the room. She had just as much right to be there as he did, and she wasn't going to let the entitled arse kick her out of the one place in the castle where she didn't have to worry about running into Ronald and his dearest Lav-Lav. _

_Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as an angry flush crept up Malfoy's neck and a vein bulged in his forehead. She was expecting him to blow and start insulting her parents, so she was shocked when he took a deep breath and then visibly deflated, deciding to just let it go._

_Hermione was settled on the sofa with her books spread out on the table in front of her when he flopped into one of the cushy chairs placed nearby. She didn't comment on his sudden decision to forgo their usual confrontation for fear that he would take it as an invitation to start arguing._

_She was glad for the fire that kept out the chill she'd been facing while in the corridors and didn't want to have to leave the warmth because he decided to start throwing hexes or something. It was toasty and warm in the Room of Requirement, despite the cold look Malfoy was shooting her way._

_He looked tired – completely exhausted. It was distracting her from her work. His cheekbones and chin looked even sharper than normal, he'd obviously lost weight and the colour of his skin was whiter than ever, save for the dark bruise-coloured smudges under his eyes. He seemed liable to keel over at any moment._

_They sat for hours like that in near-silence, the scratching of Hermione's quill and the scrape of paper moving on paper were the only sounds in the room. Hermione was the first one to leave. She closed up her books and walked out, leaving him there staring moodily into the fire._

_The next day, Hermione found herself inexplicably drawn back to the same room. However, she made sure to bring a few apples and buttered rolls from dinner with her. Another night of trying to ignore that Malfoy looked half-dead would be unbearable. Maybe Molly's tendency to feed everyone had rubbed off, or maybe it was her own kind nature - she wasn't sure which. She just knew that on the off chance he was there again, he would eat something._

_He was there._

_His eyes were void of any of the surprise he'd exhibited the previous night. It seemed that he'd resigned himself to her presence._

_Hermione knew that he hadn't attended either lunch or dinner that day, she'd been keeping a lookout for him. He had to be starving._

_Resolutely, she pulled the paper bag of food out of her satchel and set out the apples and rolls on the corner of the table closest to Malfoy. When she peeked up at him, she saw that he was looking at her like she was some sort of puzzle he couldn't figure out._

"_I won't get any work done if I'm sitting here wondering if you're going to fall over and die." At his disbelieving look, she hastily added, "I'd probably get blamed for it."_

_Still with his eyes on her like she was going to attack, Malfoy reached out and took one of the rolls, biting into it hesitantly._

_When he finished the food, he actually nodded his thanks, a movement Hermione nearly missed because it was so minute._

"After that, we started talking and got closer and closer, meeting there every night," Hermione finished. It felt like something she hadn't even realized had been weighing her down was finally lifted from her shoulders. "We could never figure out why the room opened for me that first night once he already was inside, but I like to think it's because the room knew we required each other. We just didn't know it yet."

Ginny rolled her eyes, ignoring Hermione's sappy musings. "That's how it _started_, but you didn't get to any of the good bits! Like why was he skipping meals and when he first snogged you silly!"

"He wasn't eating because the stress of the task Voldemort had set for him was ruining his appetite, and while everyone was gathered in the Great Hall for meals was the perfect time for him to work on the vanishing cabinet." Hermione was less willing to answer the second question, but she continued on, knowing that any stalling tactics would only prolong her discomfort. "I was the first one to kiss him." She blushed at the memory. "I kind of jumped on him, my momentum made him stumble back and trip over an ottoman. Once we were sure he didn't have a concussion, _I _snogged _him _silly."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to get out. I had to rewrite the second half of this chapter because I've shifted the entire story around. It might be a while before the next chapter because I have five essays due and three exams in the next three weeks... So not a lot of spare time.**

**Anyway! Thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed and thanks to Amortenia Veritaserum for betaing! Also, if anyone wants to volunteer to be the second beta for this story, I'd be really grateful.**

**~Frosty**

When Draco came back from work that night, he found a madly cackling Ginny and a very embarrassed looking Hermione.

"Do I even want to know?" he asked, moving to stand behind Hermione. She tilted her head back so he had a good view of her face while she grimaced.

"Ginny's been interrogating me on how it all started while we were in Hogwarts," Hermione said with a glare at her friend. There was no real heat in the expression; it was more for show than for anything incriminating.

Draco was unsympathetic. "I always told you that continued contact with the Weasleys would bring nothing but misery to anyone foolish enough to try it."

Without glancing at him, Hermione whacked him on his hard stomach. "Ginny was the one who cast the spell that made me come after you."

Looking back, she was still a little embarrassed about the things the spell had made her do. However, she had Draco again, so she could hardly hold a grudge against the person who had made it possible.

"Very well, then perhaps that entire clan isn't _entirely _irredeemable." His silver eyes were laughing, even while his expression was serious and contemplative.

Once again laying her head on the back of the sofa to look up at him, Hermione stuck out her tongue.

He tugged one of her curls in retaliation.

Ginny didn't seem too offended by Draco's comment. If anything, she appeared amused by Hermione's playful interaction with the blond. Had she not she'd witnessed it for herself, Ginny never would have believed _Malfoy _capable of such playfulness.

They said love brought out the best in everyone, and even Malfoys weren't exempt from the rule. Ginny was glad her friend had found someone that could make Hermione smile so radiantly just by being in the room with her. Ever since Malfoy had re-entered Hermione's life, Ginny hadn't heard a single morose sigh from her friend, which was a vast improvement.

"I hear you very nearly died the first time Hermione kissed you," Ginny said, bringing the blond's attention away from the hand he was tangling in Hermione's hair. She suspected that Malfoy had a good view down Hermione's shirt from where he was standing, which probably explained why he had that insufferable smirk on his face. The one that said everything was going his way.

That smirk faded when his silver eyes turned on Ginny. "You've monopolized Hermione long enough, Weaslette. I think it's time for you to leave," he said.

Immediately, Hermione whacked him again, harder than the last time. "You're being rude," she hissed.

Draco smirked down at her, completely unabashed. "I really doubt she's dim enough to think that I've completely changed my personality just because I'm with you again."

"I'm sorry Ginny, he does have manners, but he keeps them on a shelf and only dusts them off when he wants something," Hermione said.

Had Hermione not been so hilariously mortified, Ginny may have been insulted by the way Malfoy was talking to her. As it was, Ginny grinned as Hermione continued to berate the blond for his rude words.

Catching sight of the clock out of the corner of her eye, Ginny realized that Harry would be back soon and she should be home.

"I actually have to leave," Ginny said. She turned her sharp brown eyes on Malfoy. "Don't think I'm going because you were an asshole, because I'm not," she added.

If she let him get away with that, he'd just start getting rude whenever he wanted her to leave, which would be annoying. It was important to start training him early if she was going to be spending a significant amount of time around him – and she would, because she wasn't about to let Hermione drift away from her just because she had a boyfriend.

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Draco turned his attention back to Hermione.

The brunette slapped his hand away and stood to embrace her friend. "I'm sorry again Ginny," she whispered, making sure Draco couldn't hear. It had probably been his intention to make her apologise more than once, he set those kinds of goals for himself. It was an evil Slytherin habit, manipulating people.

"Don't worry about it," Ginny responded, equally low. "He's actually right, I shouldn't expect anything from him. He's a _Malfoy_."

Had he not brought it upon himself, Hermione would have objected to Ginny's Malfoy discrimination; but in this case, the prat deserved it.

Hermione sighed and plopped back down on the sofa as the Floo roared to life and consumed Ginny.

"I thought she'd never leave," Draco said, hopping over the back of the sofa and pulling Hermione across the cushions until she was moulded to his side.

She knew she should be mad at him, but couldn't help melting against him. In the near future, she didn't doubt he'd do something else to piss her off, she'd just get twice as angry with him them.

Yes, that's what she'd do. Next time he forgot to put the toilet seat down, heads were going to roll.

"You were only home a minute before you scared her away," was all she said.

"It felt like an eternity, particularly since I could see right down your top from where I was standing." He tugged on her collar to emphasise his point, craftily twisting one of her buttons out of its hole with the motion.

Hermione smiled at him, but she wasn't going to let him distract her. While she'd been staring at him upside-down, she'd noticed that he looked completely exhausted. More tired than he usually appeared when returning home from work.

"What's happened at work that has you looking like you want nothing more than several hours in bed?" she asked, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek. The pale stubble there scratched at the palm of her hand as he pressed his face against it.

She hadn't wanted to bring it up in front of Ginny, and she doubted her friend had noticed the subtle signs of exhaustion around Draco's mouth and eyes, but she needed to know. Hermione lived with the worry that someone would find them out.

What if someone tried to kill Draco a work? Or decided to send threats?

She wasn't sure if he'd tell her about it. Keeping information from her in a misguided attempt to stop her from worrying was a very Draco thing to do.

Eyes closed as he pressed his cheek against her palm, he cursed her perceptiveness. "I've obviously been spending too much time with you. I'm losing patience with my idiotic employees." He leaned forward and kissed the spot he'd revealed when he'd opened her button. "And you're right; I _do _want nothing more than to spend several hours in bed, just not in the way you were implying."

He pressed another kiss slightly lower and Hermione had to fight off a shudder of pleasure. Being more than familiar with his ways, she knew he was trying to distract her from her line of questioning. Unfortunately, she was going to have to stay curious and wondering what it was that had been making him so tired because she found herself completely unable to resist him.

His clever fingers made quick work of the rest of her buttons, and he explored all the skin he was revealing with his lips.

After less than a minute, Hermione gave in to her desire and got to work removing his shirt as well. It just wasn't fair that she be the only one half-dressed.

* * *

><p>Hermione had been a constant fixture at the Weasley family dinners since the War. She'd bonded with Molly Weasley over their mutual worry for the members of her family, and Hermione had earned herself a standing invite every Sunday. It had been slightly awkward after her kiss with Ron, but Hermione didn't have many family members and wasn't willing to lose those she'd acquired over a small spat with Ron.<p>

Eventually, her persistence paid off and Ron had moved on to other girls. The tension between them had eased and she was more than glad that she hadn't overreacted and boycotted all the Weasleys just because she was on the outs with Ron.

"Hermione, dear, you're looking a little thin," Mrs. Weasley said disapprovingly the moment Hermione walked into the Burrow. The Weasley matriarch had said the same thing every time Hermione walked into the house since she'd been twelve.

Smiling fondly, Hermione wrapped the older woman in a hug. She knew better than to try and argue with Molly once she'd started accusing people of "looking thin". It was best to just smile and accept whatever food was forced upon her and save the effort arguing would take.

"Besides being thin, you're glowing. Who's the lucky man?" There was a knowing glint in Molly's eye as she closely examined Hermione's expression.

Hearing a snort from behind her, Hermione turned to find Ginny desperately trying to smother her laughter.

After extracting herself from the older woman's grip, Hermione grabbed Ginny's arm and dragged her up the first flight of stairs to the vacant landing.

"What's so funny?" the brunette hissed. She already had a good idea what Ginny found so amusing, but just wanted it confirmed so she could be properly irritated with her friend.

"I have no idea how you managed to keep your relationship with Malfoy a secret for so long, the moment mum mentioned him, you looked like Ron always used to when he was about to go to Potions and had only just remembered the homework assignment he hadn't finished. You're lucky she's learned that she probably doesn't want to know when one of her children wears that look or she might have asked you more about it."

Hermione glared, the effect somewhat lessened by the fact that Ginny was giggling shamelessly.

"What's the matter Hermione, ashamed of your boyfriend?" the redhead asked in a whisper broken up by giggling fits.

"No," Hermione hissed, "I just didn't think it would be a good idea to start the third Wizarding War here in your home. It'd be disrespectful to our hostess."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Because you and your secret lover are _so _obsessed with propriety. If that were true, he'd have a nice Pureblood wife and you'd be my sister-in-law."

Checking that no one was near to overhear their conversation, Hermione scowled at her friend. "You know what I meant."

"I don't think you're giving my family enough credit. I bet if you just invited him, most of them would probably welcome him," Ginny said.

"I _did _invite him. It was only a joke, but I believe his answer was something along the lines of 'love, the day I'm welcome in the Weasley household is the day the Weasel loses his appetite'. He also said that even if he had been so inclined, he had to work tonight."

Ginny laughed at Hermione's bad attempt at imitating Draco's deep voice.

"But really," Hermione said over Ginny's laughter, "Can you imagine Ron reacting with anything but an explosion if I were to walk in the door with a former Death Eater?"

"Is that how you think of him?" Ginny was shocked that Hermione was so free with the term 'Death Eater'. She assumed that it would bring back bad memories for her friend. It certainly brought back bad memories for _her _and she wasn't the one who was tortured in front of her love by his psychopath of an aunt.

"Never," Hermione said adamantly. "Not even when I first found out he was a Death Eater did I believe there was that kind of evil in him."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. She sensed there was a good story there.

They still had a little time before dinner, and Ginny was never one to turn down the chance to nose around in someone else's life. Grabbing her friend by the arm, she dragged her into an empty bedroom.

"Tell me the story," she begged.

Hermione pursed her lips. On one hand, Ginny was prying into things that weren't her business, but on the other, Hermione didn't have to hide her relationship with Draco anymore. She was with him again after all those years without him, and it no longer hurt to revisit those memories from when they were still in school.

It would probably be good for her to share them with someone. To keep those secrets from her friends had gone against her nature and weighed on her.

"Okay," Hermione said, "but none of this gets back to Draco. He wouldn't be happy to know that I shared this with you – though I can't see him begrudging me the chance to get some secrets off of my chest."

Ginny nodded enthusiastically, throwing herself on the bed and propping her chin on her hands, the picture of an eager listener.

_As the war loomed ever-closer, Hermione and Draco found themselves seeking comfort in one another more and more._

_On a night after seeing what Umbridge had done to Harry during detention, Hermione was particularly upset. She was torn between screaming in frustration and breaking down into tears as she slipped out of the Gryffindor common room and fled to the Room of Requirement. _

_Draco wasn't there, but the room itself served as a comfort to her. There were so many good memories in the room that they served to soothe her frazzled nerves enough to allow her some peace. Wearily, she sank down into one of the chairs and threaded her fingers through her bushy hair. _

_When the door clicked open and then shut behind someone, she didn't bother looking up; only one person could get inside the Room of Requirement when she was already using it._

_Hermione wasn't sure if he'd noticed her yet or if he was too tired to even be aware that someone else was in the room. Not sure if she should announce herself, Hermione merely watched him, waiting to see if he'd feel the weight of her gaze. _

_Apparently he was too tired._

_She knew for sure that he had no idea that he wasn't alone when he stripped off his shirt and moved to the bed._

_Hermione would have spoken to announce herself, but something had caught her attention. Something that turned her blood to ice._

_On his otherwise unmarred skin, there was a black blotch ruining the pristine expanse of white. He had the Dark Mark. _

_Hermione had known there was a good possibility he'd get one eventually, but she hadn't realized that he already had one._

_She must have made some sort of distressed squeak, because Draco whipped around and pointed his wand at her, a wild look in his eyes. The look softened to a tired smile when he saw her, and then to worry when her expression came to his attention._

_No words were needed for him to realize what had happened. His eyes widened and his wand was forgotten as he clapped his hand over the mark. The action was too little and much too late; it was probably a reflex more than anything._

"_Draco..." she said hesitantly, taking a step towards him._

"_Don't," he snapped. "Just get out."_

_Hermione held firm. She knew he was only trying to push her away before she could choose to leave. It was twisted logic, but she knew him well – better than he thought if he believed for a moment that his tactic would work._

"_It doesn't change anything," she said firmly, taking another step forward even while he tried to stop her with his fiercest glare._

"_It changes _everything_," Draco hissed._

_Hermione kept advancing towards him. She'd faced down Death Eaters that wanted to kill her in the Department of Mysteries; one of them was his father. She wasn't going to run from Draco, he wouldn't hurt her anymore than she'd hurt him._

_Her feelings on seeing that horrible mark on someone she cared about were mixed; there was the expected revulsion and nausea, more from the actual mark than the person. There was also empathy, something she wouldn't have thought she was capable of when it came to Death Eaters. Draco was not a willing participant in the war, he was a victim of his parent's poor choices._

_When there was only a whisper of air between them, Hermione stopped. "Was it voluntary?" she asked._

_So great was his surprise, Draco actually reared away from her. "What are you talking about?"_

"_Was it voluntary?" she repeated more slowly, carefully enunciating each syllable. "Were you _proud_ to join the ranks of Death Eaters?"_

"_Don't be ridiculous," Draco spat. "If I had refused, they would have killed me and then my parents, and then they would have found someone else to complete my task."_

_Hermione was one of the few people Draco trusted enough to drop his guard around, which meant that he occasionally slipped up and mentioned a mysterious "task". She knew not to push him on it, just as he never asked her for details from the Order._

_She smiled at him. "Like I said before: it doesn't change anything."_

_Something in Draco shifted so fast that Hermione didn't have time to note the change before his arms were around her and his lips had crashed onto hers. Apparently they were finished with the conversation. Not opposed to a little stress-relieving snog, Hermione leaned against him and brought her hands up to tangle them in his soft hair._

Ginny's eyes were slightly teary even as she appeared disappointed. "I wasn't expecting that story to be so tender. I thought it'd be a tale of passion, ripped buttons and naked fun."

"I'm sorry the truth wasn't as entertaining as your wild imagination," Hermione said dryly.

Shrugging, Ginny stood from the bed. "It seems that you're as good for him as he is for you."

"As long as no one kills us for being together, our relationship will do us both a world of good," Hermione said.

Ginny was giving her a guilty, worried look that made her instantly suspicious.

"What?"

"Nothing," the redhead said, her voice suspiciously innocent. "Come on, I heard Mum say Ron's bringing this week's girlfriend, so I wanted to make her as uncomfortable as possible at dinner."

Still not waiting for her friend's input, Ginny left the room, expecting to be followed.

"If you don't hurry, I'll make sure you're the one sitting between them," Ginny called in a singsong voice.

Shaking her head affectionately, Hermione followed her downstairs, ready to run interference between the redhead and her brother. It was a wonder at least _one _of the Weasley siblings hadn't murdered another Weasley sibling yet. She should probably be more concerned about what Ginny's look was about, but Hermione figured that it whatever she was hiding would come out eventually.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**A/N: Hello readers! Sorry this has taken so long, I'm still swamped with exams and I've been trying to get a Christmas story out before Christmas... Anyway, the chapter is here now! The plot thickens...**

**As always, thanks to all you wonderful people who reviewed and to Amortentia Veritaserum for betaing!**

**~Frosty**

When she'd been getting dressed that morning, heels had seemed like the perfect thing to compliment her professional-looking skirt and jacket. As she clacked along the sidewalk during her lunch break, Hermione was seriously re-evaluating that decision. It was stupid idea to torture her feet and back just because she wanted her arse and legs to look better. In fact, she was going to personally lodge a complaint with the inventor of heels.

She scowled, certain that the inventor of high heels was probably long dead and so would not be able to feel her wrath over the pain their creation was causing her. It was always less satisfying to unleash her wrath on those in no position to properly cower.

It didn't help that for some reason, it was only halfway through the day and yet she was completely exhausted. The stress of knowing that she was keeping secrets from her friends must have been weighing more heavily on her mind than she had thought for her to be so tired.

With immense relief, she saw her destination just a block away. The little sandwich shop was far enough away from the Ministry that it wasn't completely overrun by Ministry employees when lunch time came around, and they had the most divine blueberry muffins. Those bloody muffins had been the only thing she'd been able to think about since they'd popped into her mind last night. The only thing that had stopped her from going to get one sooner was the fact that the shop had been closed when she thought of them, and then she had needed to be at work.

Hermione had almost reached the door to the shop when someone shouted her name from behind her. Confused, she turned around but found that of the few people on the street, none of them were looking at her as if they were trying to get her attention.

Odd, but not enough to warrant investigation over procuring a muffin.

Shrugging, she continued walking. If someone wanted to talk to her, they could always just find her in her office. She'd been in the same place since pretty much the moment she'd graduated from seventh year working in the law office of the Ministry, sometimes in tandem with the Aurors. The public was more than aware of where she worked should they ever need to contact her.

Hermione resumed cursing her shoes as each step pained her, but she tried to force it out of her mind with imaginings of how delicious that muffin was going to be. Consequently, she didn't notice when a shadow in a nearby alley detached itself from others of its kind and slunk towards her.

As she was reaching for the door of the sandwich shop with the happy bells that always lifted her sprits, the Shadow came up behind her and yanked her into the alleyway alone the side of the shop.

Immediately, her training kicked in and she threw an elbow into his stomach while stomping on his foot. All of a sudden those heels that were so annoying came in handy, stabbing into his soft shoes.

The man – and she could tell from his deeper voice and large hands that he was male – dropped her, obviously not having expected her to fight back so fiercely. But he had her pinned against a wall again before she had time to get her wand.

She tried to scream, but he must have silenced her before he grabbed her because no sound came out of her mouth. Her teeth clicking together as he slammed her shoulders against the wall in an attempt to force her to stop struggling was the only sound she managed to make. Hermione's heart was beating fiercely and she was practically shaking with adrenaline. Fat lot of good it did her.

There was some kind of spell obscuring the man's face, the only thing she could see under his dark hood was a foggy blur, giving no hints as to who it was. This only made her situation more eerie.

She leaned back, wishing she could fuse herself with the wall as her attacker leaned forward, bringing his face only millimetres away from hers. Hermione was suddenly very concerned with his intentions. Capture was one horror, but rape was an entirely different type of trauma, one she prayed that he wasn't going to attempt. She started struggling even more fiercely at the thought.

The weight pinning her against the wall was inexplicably gone, leaving her to sag against the supportive bricks as she tried to work out what had happened. Hermione could only watch in horror and shock as Draco was suddenly there, beating the man who'd been holding her to a pulp.

Just in case the situation in front of her got out of hand, Hermione made sure to have her wand out and ready, clutched in a white-knuckled grip. If Draco didn't stop soon, she was going to have to use her wand against him to prevent a murder.

Apparently satisfied that the man was unconscious, Draco made his way over to Hermione and looked her over. His hands came up to her elbows and then hovered there as if he was afraid physical contact might break her. It only lasted a moment before he gave in and grabbed her elbows.

"Are you okay?" he asked, running his hands down her arms to check for injuries. She could feel his hands trembling through her sleeves.

Mentally doing an inventory, Hermione nodded. She had a few bumps and was shaking worse than Draco, but she'd get over it. She had survived much worse in the past.

With a wave of her wand, she cast a finite on herself to remove the silencing spell.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him and clinging there, taking in his comforting scent and trying to calm her nerves. One man in an alley was nothing compared to an army of Death Eaters, but she was shaken nonetheless.

Draco held her tight, flattening his palms against her back and continuing his check for injuries.

"I got tired of hearing you going on about the muffins from that little shop and decided to see what the fuss is about. We're lucky I did." He shuddered at the thought of what had almost happened. Hermione was in complete agreement with that sentiment.

They both whipped around, wands drawn, at the sound of a slight shuffling behind them. The man was gone. Draco started reciting a string of profanities that would have made seasoned Death Eaters cringe.

"He must have had a Portkey in his pocket," Hermione said, raising her voice slightly so Draco could hear her over his swearing.

A flash lit up the alleyway, illuminating Hermione with her torn clothing and mussed hair and Draco sporting bloody, split knuckles. When the photographer realized that they'd caught sight of him, he squeaked in fear and ran.

"It's probably going to be all over the papers that I've attacked you now," Draco sighed. He was more concerned with getting Hermione somewhere away from the public than hunting down that photographer. He could deal with the press; he couldn't deal with Hermione getting hurt.

"Skeeter still cowers when I walk into her office, I can deal with them," Hermione said, moving to follow the photographer.

Grabbing her arm to stop her, Draco shook his head. "Let them print what they want. The worst case scenario is they blame me for the attack, and we can make them retract it and charge them with slander." He tugged the arm he was holding when she looked like she wanted to follow the photographer anyway. "Hermione, you need to rest. Go home."

She started to bristle at his orders before the anger drained out of her again. He was right.

"Fine," she grumbled. "I'm going home."

Draco rolled his eyes at her. Did she really believe that he was going to let her go to her flat alone when she was very nearly violated in an alleyway? She may be a war hero, but that didn't mean she was infallible or invincible. There was no way that he was willing to take the chance that someone was waiting for her.

He grabbed her arm just as she turned on the spot to Apparate home.

Hermione stumbled a little when they landed in her living room, having not expected to bring a passenger with her. Draco absently righted her, his eyes darting around the room.

"You're here to prowl the rooms again?" she asked with resignation. Secretly, she was pleased that he was concerned for her, but she knew that if she let him do it without saying anything, he'd take it as a matter of course that she needed him to protect her – which she didn't.

Shooting her a half-hearted glare, Draco withdrew his wand and went to search the other rooms.

Obediently, she stood where she was, waiting until he came back and finished his male display of protective prowess or whatever. It was totally pointless, but if he needed to do it to feel better, then so be it, but if he thought to make it a habit, then he had another thing coming.

She crossed her arms and listened as he opened the closet doors in her bedroom and shuffled around in there. Her tiny closets could barely hold her clothes, much less some man lying in wait for her to let her guard down so he could pounce.

When Draco came back into the room, she raised her eyebrows. "Am I safe? Did you check under the bed? Because I think there's enough space under there to wedge a grown man if he used some magic."

Satisfied that she wasn't going to go into shock and her flat was free of threats, he ignored her comment and kissed her forehead. "I'll be here after work tonight, send an owl if you need anything."

She was kind of shocked about the abruptness of his exit. Despite the facade she'd put on for Draco, Hermione was understandably shaken up about her recent experience. It would have been nice to have him stay for a bit, but she understood that Draco was very busy.

She owled into work that she was taking the rest of the day off and went in search of her bruise salve. A nice, long bath was in order.

* * *

><p>Hermione stared vacantly at the ceiling. She thought Draco would be back long ago.<p>

Her eyes had started to droop the second the sun was down. It was like someone had flipped an internal switch to "sleep". She glanced at the door, hoping to see Draco outlined in the doorway. They didn't really have an official agreement that he was going to come over, she had just assumed. More often than not he stayed with her, and tonight she would have liked to have him there for her.

It didn't help that she was feeling nauseated. She was slightly jumpy at any unexplained sound and fighting to keep her food down. It wasn't a nice experience for her.

Carefully rolling over, not wanting to go too fast in case her stomach rebelled, she burrowed into her covers. Maybe she'd feel better after a little sleep.

She blinked awake when she felt a feather-light touch trail down her arm. Before she even rolled over to see who it was, she smelled Draco's cologne and a wave of relief washed over her. While she'd told herself that he was probably just busy, deep down she'd been slightly worried that something had happened to him.

Rolling to face him, she smiled and sleepily reached towards the blond perched on the edge of her bed. Her arms wrapped around him and pulled him close.

"I didn't think you were going to come," she mumbled burying her head in the crook of his neck as he let her pull him into the bed with her.

"I was held up at work," he answered.

Accepting that, Hermione pulled the blanket over the both of them and went back to sleep, happy that she wasn't going to have to spend the night alone, particularly after the harrowing day she'd had.

* * *

><p>When Hermione woke up the next morning, Draco was still out like a light. He worked too hard; he must have been completely exhausted to sleep so soundly and for so long. He seemed to be doing that a lot recently. Gently, she trailed her fingers down his jaw, smiling when he titled his head closer to her touch.<p>

Extracting herself from under the arm he'd had around her waist, Hermione was glad to notice that she didn't feel the need to vomit. She didn't need to face a stomach bug on top of everything else.

The blissful wellness lasted until she tried to drink her morning coffee and had to rush into the loo the moment she caught a whiff of the steaming beverage. How was she supposed to wake up properly if she couldn't have her coffee?

Completely miserable, she trudged back to her room to make herself presentable before she went to work.

She was still taking deep breaths in an attempt to fend off the urge to vomit halfway through her day when Harry slipped into her office. In his hand were two paper cups that exuded that foul odour Hermione had been trying to avoid all morning.

Her friend's green eyes widened when she leaned over and threw up into her rubbish bin before her office door wasn't even fully closed behind him.

"Hermione, are you all right?" he asked, rushing over to rub her back.

Unfortunately, that only brought the vile substance closer to her sensitive nose.

"The coffee! Get it out of here!" she gasped between dry heaves. She was suddenly glad that she hadn't eaten anything that morning; it would have been so much worse if there had been something in her stomach to lose.

Harry was confused but still rushed to put both cups of coffee on the floor outside of her office door. When that didn't seem to be immediately effective, he cast an air-clearing charm to completely remove the scent from her office.

Relieved, Hermione vanished the mess she had made and was able to sit up and face her friend.

"I can't even _think _too closely about coffee without throwing up," she explained miserably.

Harry awkwardly patted her back. "Maybe you should go home."

"No, I have important papers that need to be submitted today."

Since she was right out of school, Hermione had worked in the law department of the Ministry. She was the equivalent of a magical lawyer, working to defend those who were unable to defend themselves, the victims of thoughtless crimes. Occasionally, she'd work with the Aurors to help them take down a particularly crafty criminal, and as the best the Ministry had to offer, she was frequently requested for cases outside of her preferred humanitarian ones.

"What did you need, Harry?" she asked, not wanting him to act on that concerned gleam he had in his eyes. He'd probably tell her to go to the hospital or something, and she really hated it there.

"Have you seen the paper yet today?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. Her stomach lurched uncomfortably as she wondered how the paper had spun the picture of her and Draco. She'd been so preoccupied with her inability to drink coffee that she had completely forgotten about the photographer that had taken a picture of her and Draco in that alley the previous night.

"Well, there was a lovely picture of you and Malfoy in an alley paired with a story about a man who went missing from a ball at Malfoy Manor last night. Together, those were enough to bring Malfoy into questioning."

It took Hermione a moment to recover from the shock that jolted her heart and stomach unpleasantly. Draco had clearly said he'd been working late, but if there had been a ball at his ancestral home, it was _very _unlikely that he hadn't attended. He'd once told her that Narcissa insisted he attend every one of her social gatherings to "present a united front to society". He'd _lied _to her? Why?

Forcing a neutral expression on her face, she shook her head. "Sorry, I haven't heard anything. I'll keep my ears open though."

Harry didn't leave like she'd hoped. She hadn't really thought that her feeble line would work.

"Hermione, Malfoy told me an interesting story while I was questioning him," Harry said, settling down in one of the chairs on the other side of her desk, looking for all the world that he wasn't going to move until he had some answers.

"What kind of story?" she asked, her voice slightly squeaky. Draco had always told her that she was a terrible liar. Internally, she sighed at herself. She was going to need to work on that if she was going to keep their relationship a secret – though if Harry knew, that secret wasn't really a secret anymore.

"It was a story of a secret love that started in sixth year, ended with the war, and then started up again recently. Now, when I told him he was lying, he said he didn't care if I believed him but that the danger to you was real, and if I cared even a whit about you, I'd put a protective detail on your flat."

Hermione sighed. That sounded like Draco.

She shifted uncomfortably under the sharp gaze of her friend. His green eyes were watching her reaction carefully, taking in every detail with the skill of a seasoned Auror.

When she looked up at him again, her eyes full of apology for keeping such a big secret from him for so long, Harry's eyebrows rose practically into his hair. "It's true?" he whispered disbelievingly, too shocked to find his voice.

"He may have played up the danger aspect to make sure you give me that protective detail, but he wouldn't waste the energy on making up a lie if the truth would get him what he wanted just as easily."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "You and Malfoy? Since before the war?"

Hermione had to swallow a few times in an attempt to banish the nausea as it made a resurgence. She took deep breaths through her nose to calm her roiling stomach.

"I love him," she said, begging with her eyes for understanding.

Tiredly, he scrubbed his hands over his face. "I can't believe you kept something so big from me for so long. It's like there's this huge part of your life that I never even knew about."

Hermione felt like she'd swallowed something made of lead and it was sitting there in her stomach. She had a sinking feeling that the lead was actually made of guilt.

"We couldn't let anyone know. It had to be a secret, and then we had to end it, so there was really not point in bringing it up. It would only hurt us pointlessly," she tried to explain.

He let out a breath. "I get why you didn't tell me _then_, but not why you didn't tell me _now_. Why did I have to hear it from _Malfoy _that there was someone out to get you? After everything we've been through together, you didn't think that maybe I could handle the truth?"

Unsure what she could say, Hermione merely stared at her hands in her lap, contrite.

Harry stood up. "There's an Auror positioned outside your door, he'll go home with you, check your flat, and then he'll leave you for the night. Make sure your wards are strengthened."

"Harry, wait!" she called just as he was turning the doorknob. She couldn't just let him leave angry with her, his friendship meant too much to her for her to allow it.

He didn't turn around. "Just give me some time to process all of this."

That sinking feeling intensified and she momentarily lost the use of her voice. She nodded, but Harry didn't turn around to see it. With a final-sounding click, he just left.

A small thump sounded as her head fell down on her desk. In a few moments of attempting to be helpful, Draco had managed to do what nothing else had in all the years she'd known Harry; drive a wedge between them. She was going to have to have a long talk with the blond when she saw him again.

He had so much explaining to do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**A/N: Hello readers! I know I've been kind of slacking with this story, and I'm sorry about that. I sat down the other day and wrote the next three chapters of this story, so I'm going to try to get you more regular updates.**

**Anyway, thanks to all the wonderful reviewers (I hope you haven't given up on this story).**

**The betaed version! Thanks to Amortentia Veritaserum for betaing.  
><strong>

**~Frosty**

She felt kind of like a wronged wife waiting for her husband to come home from the bar with the telltale scent of alcohol and cheap perfume clinging to him in a cloud of shame. All she needed was a dark room and a comfy chair from which she could brood while staring at the door, just waiting to interrogate him. She would, of course, use one of her table lamps as an interrogation prop to shine of him while paying close attention to catch him in a lie.

Okay, maybe that was taking it a little far, but she was going to ask him some questions when he returned. Hermione knew he wasn't a cheater and that it was unlikely he was at a bar, but he deserved some grief for making her worry about him.

Her nausea seemed to have settled down for the day, which was wonderful. It would have been frustrating to try and have a conversation with him while hugging the toilet. She was also free to settle down somewhere comfortable to wait for him instead of constantly rushing off to the loo to regurgitate the contents of her poor stomach.

Instead of the dark, dramatic room, she settled on the sofa with a book to wait for Draco. There was no point straining her eyes attempting to read in dim lighting just for the proper atmosphere. Besides, she and Draco weren't married. If he wanted, he could up and leave at any time.

It actually hurt a little just to think that. Hermione liked to believe that Draco wouldn't do something like that to her.

Not long after she'd settled down with her book, the fireplace flared green. She forced a smile for the blond as he came through the Floo. Despite the long hours of sleep he'd had the night before, Draco once again looked completely knackered.

Obviously catching the false note in her smile, he paused in his approach, uncertainty flashing in his eyes.

Hermione shut her book and wiggled into a more upright position. "You look tired again, tough day at work?" she asked.

With a sigh and an uncharacteristic slouch, Draco collapsed onto the sofa beside her. "You have no idea."

He wouldn't quite meet her eyes and it bothered her greatly. Was he really going to try to lie to her when she knew something was wrong? While he was an accomplished liar, Hermione knew that he tended to get sloppy with his lies when he was exhausted. She fully intended to exploit this if he remained reticent.

When she didn't comment further, his eyes moved to her face, taking in her slight scowl and pouty lips. He sighed again.

"Potter talked to you, did he?" Draco asked with resignation.

Hermione glared. "There's an Auror posted outside the door, and I had to hear from Harry that the extra protection was needed because of something you're doing. Harry told me an interesting story about a ball at Malfoy Manor last night."

Silence. Draco didn't avert his eyes, but he kept his face impassive.

"You're just going to sit there and pretend I didn't say anything?" she prodded when the lack of sound started to feel like a vacuum, sucking all life from the room until it was impossible to notice anything else.

"It's best you don't know anything about it."

That was the final straw. Hermione threw her book onto the coffee table and stood, propping her hands on her hips.

"Since when have I ever been content not knowing something just because I've been told it was 'best' that I didn't know?" His mouth opened to reply, but she continued, right over top of what she assumed was an attempt to placate her. "Were you just going to lie to me and pretend you've been working late until the truth came out? You can't be so naive that you believed I wouldn't eventually learn the truth – or at least enough of it to know you're lying."

His eyes flashed as he started to get irritated. He may love the infuriating woman, but that didn't mean he was going to let her yell at him like that without retaliating. Straightening his posture, he stood from the sofa to use his greater height to his advantage.

"I was trying to keep you out of it, you've already fought your war. It's my turn now."

A worm of worry started to twine around Hermione's stomach at his cryptic statement. While he wasn't particularly brave, Hermione knew that Draco _was _ruthless and fanatically defensive when it came to those he loved. This combination didn't lead to staying on the right side of the law most of the time. She hadn't wanted to believe it, but she was starting to think that the disappearance from the Malfoy ball hadn't been an accident and that Draco may have had something to do with it.

"Whatever's going on, I want to know what it is," she said firmly. If there was someone out to get her, she'd rather face them head-on than let Draco fight her battles behind the scenes. She was not the weak maiden he seemed to think she was.

Draco's response was interrupted when the fireplace flared green and spit out a ruffled Ginny. Sensing the tension crackling between the pair already in the room, Ginny froze at looked between them. She obviously knew she was interrupting something, but her reason for visiting was _very _important, or else she would have left.

"Hermione I have something to tell you," she said, trying to make her friend understand the importance of her visit with widened eyes.

The brunette shot a look at Draco. "Ginny, can it wait until tomorrow? We're kind of discussing something."

Resolute, Ginny crossed her arms and tipped her chin up in stubborn refusal. "I can tell you two are in the middle of an important conversation, but I promise you want to hear what I have to say."

Not particularly willing to get into a fight with Hermione, Draco stepped to the side, dropping his confrontational posture. "You two have your talk, I have something I need to do anyway."

He was only prolonging the inevitable, but he really did have things he needed to do. Fighting with Hermione would only leave him furious for the rest of the evening and he needed his wits about him.

Hermione looked at him sharply. "Is it something else you can't tell me about for my own good?" she asked with more than a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Ignoring her question, Draco pinned her with his eyes. "I won't be back tonight. Promise me you'll go stay with Potter or something."

"There's an Auror positioned outside my door, I'm not going to hide at Harry's house because you're overreacting!" Hermione snapped.

"She promises," Ginny said, rushing forward to grab Hermione's arm in an effort to stop the brunette from saying anything cutting. Hermione would be more receptive to her news if she wasn't fuming from a fight with her lover.

Taking the She-Weasel on her word, Draco nodded his thanks and Apparated away.

It hurt Hermione that he hadn't even said goodbye. Goodbyes were important, especially if he was leaving to do something potentially dangerous.

"What was that about?" Ginny asked as soon as Draco was gone.

Hermione stepped away from her friend and collapsed onto the sofa once more. "I don't actually know, he won't tell me what he's doing, but the Ministry's brought him in for questioning for this 'nothing' he's been doing."

"Harry told me about that." Ginny perched beside her and patted Hermione's shoulder comfortingly. "He feels bad for just walking out on you like he did."

With a wave of her hand, Hermione dismissed Ginny's concern. "Never mind any of that. What's so important that you needed to interrupt our conversation to tell me? I think I could have at least dragged some of the truth from him once we'd started yelling."

"Sorry for interrupting, but I have something really important to tell you." As if a spell was cast over her, Ginny suddenly looked nervous. "I wasn't going to tell you in case nothing came of it, but I heard from Harry that you can't drink coffee anymore and that you threw up in your rubbish bin."

Hermione crossed her arms, irritated with having been interrupted. She had a feeling she _really _wasn't going to like whatever came next.

"I've had a bit of a stomach bug recently," she explained. Hermione wasn't oblivious about what her symptoms could point to, but that was impossible. Unlike Muggle contraceptives, their magical counterparts were one hundred percent effective.

Knowing Hermione wasn't going to get any happier, Ginny ploughed on.

"I may have gone back and taken another look at that spell I used on you... and discovered that it renders almost all contraceptive spells ineffective and increases fertility nearly tenfold when cast." Ginny squinted up her eyes and waited for the explosion.

When nothing happened, she cracked an eye open and found that Hermione was oddly calm.

"And you weren't going to say anything because there was still a chance I wasn't pregnant," the brunette said, her voice completely emotionless.

Ginny nodded slowly.

Slowly, Hermione wrapped her arms around her middle. "I'm pregnant," she whispered. That explained more than it didn't, to be honest. For the last few days, the possibility had been floating through her mind, but she'd been continuously dismissing it as impossible. Apparently it wasn't.

She was pregnant with Draco's child. There was going to be a tiny person that depended on her for everything, including safety.

Merlin, Draco was going to be even more worried about her safety when he found out. He'd probably insist she be sent to America until he put every last Pureblood with even the smallest reason to hold a grudge against her or him behind bars.

Hands shaking, Hermione performed a quick charm, just to be sure. Maybe Ginny was wrong and she really did just have a small stomach bug. The tip of her wand shone bright white, showing that she was, in fact, pregnant.

She should, by rights, be furious with her friend for meddling and starting these events. But honestly, she just didn't have the energy for that kind of rage. Ginny had meant well with her meddling. She never would have intended something like this to happen.

Suddenly, Hermione's head whipped up to meet her friend's eyes. "Promise me you won't say a word of this to anyone."

"But-"

"_Anyone_," Hermione said with more force when Ginny started to object.

Not speaking to the redhead, Hermione went to the door and told the Auror posted there that she was going to be staying with Harry for the night. That was just what she needed; spending the night at Harry's house while he wasn't speaking to her, and Ginny, whom she didn't want to speak to at the moment. She may not blame the redhead, but she wasn't feeling talkative at the moment.

She needed time to adjust to the idea.

"Let's go," the brunette said woodenly. She was feeling none of the joy she had always thought she would upon discovering that she was pregnant. Maybe that would set in once the numbness abated.

Harry was sitting in front of the fire, obviously waiting for Ginny to return. "What was so important that you rushed out of here like a bat out of hell?" he asked, freezing when he saw that Ginny wasn't alone.

"Malfoy had somewhere to be and didn't want to leave her alone," the redhead said by way of explanation.

Hermione walked right past him and towards the stairs, heading for the guest room. She was obeying Harry's request to give him some time. Being alone was what she needed; she'd had a big shock. People wanted her dead and Draco was already too overprotective. In addition to that, she was going to have a baby. The blond would probably wrap her in protective bubble and make her wear a helmet for the duration of her pregnancy.

A childhood of mortal peril had made him a little insane about keeping people safe. Hermione's similar experiences with peril had left her with the tendency to throw herself into danger headfirst. Paired together, these two personality quirks led to arguments and stress. That didn't mean she didn't love the git any less fiercely though.

* * *

><p><em>Hermione, <em>

_My errand is going to take me a touch longer than I thought. I'll be gone for a few weeks – a couple months at the most._

_Stay with Potter, I need to know you're safe._

_D_

She stared at the note in disbelief while Harry and Ginny watched a range of expressions pass rapidly over her face.

"What's wrong?" Ginny asked once Hermione's face had settled into something along the lines of mournful rage.

Instead of answering, the brunette threw the letter across the table, not wanting to look at the thing any longer. She was just about to stand from the table when Harry's voice stopped her.

"He really does care about you," he said in disbelief, rereading the note. The words were short and to the point, but it was obvious that they were fuelled by love. Abandoning her was an odd way to show it, but he meant well, Harry knew this.

"Of course he does," Hermione snapped, not wanting to think about the blond bastard.

"Hermione, did anyone tell you the purpose of that ball at the Manor?" Harry said slowly.

She shook her head, wondering why it mattered.

"Malfoy didn't say it himself, but when I started interviewing other people from the ball, I started to notice a pattern. Malfoy and his mum were putting out feelers to see who still subscribed to the old beliefs and who was more flexible."

Ginny's mouth dropped open while Hermione tilted her head to the side, thinking of the implications. It sounded like Draco and his mother were trying to sway the popular opinion among Purebloods.

"He's trying to organize a revolution for_ you_."

Hermione blinked a few times. She'd just recently learned of her delicate condition, but it seemed that she was going to get to experience just how delicate she was in the very near future. With the way things had been going for her, it was just one shock after the other. Next she'd be finding out that the Malfoy line had magical creature blood somewhere along the line and she was going to have a baby that was half Veela or something else equally ridiculous.

"_How?" _she asked, sputtering slightly. If Draco got himself killed doing something stupid, she'd never forgive Ginny for making her throw herself at him and setting the entire mess into motion. Hell, she'd never forgive herself for being so weak that one little spell made her undo years of painfully distancing herself from him.

"There's been a lot of activity of late over at Malfoy Manor. From what I can gather, they've been throwing numerous balls and trying to change the public opinion of Muggleborns by setting an example. For those the Malfoy name can't influence and their fortune can't bribe... those people seem to go missing," Harry said.

Hand protectively over her still-flat stomach, Hermione sagged onto the sofa. She hadn't known she was pregnant long, but she knew that she was going to protect the little life growing inside her with everything she had.

It was too bad the poor child was never going to know its father; Hermione was going to murder him for leaving her alone and pregnant while he was off on some twisted errand to save the world.

Or not.

Why should she just wait at home for him to decide that it was time to once again grace her with his presence? She'd gone years without him and she could go without him again if need be, but she wasn't going to just sit at home, pining away for her man while he was off fighting a battle that should rightfully concern her since she was the main reason he'd started it.

"What did you just decide?" Ginny asked, eyeing the brunette warily. She knew that stubborn look; Hermione had a plan and she wasn't going to rest until she'd gotten her way.

"I have to make a quick stop and then most likely a visit," Hermione said.

"I'm coming with you," Harry said with determination.

Hermione sighed, but accepted it. She was either going to have to take an Auror or Harry with her, and her friend was the lesser of two evils. At least he knew that she'd hex him into next week if he tried to stop her once she'd set her mind to something.

Her first stop was Draco's apartment, but he wasn't there. She'd expected this, which was why she'd planned on doing some visiting.

Harry had followed her quietly enough – save for a few comments on the lavishness of the decorations that the blond favoured - as she searched around Draco's apartment for any idea of where he might be. She hadn't really expected to find anything; Draco was a true Slytherin at heart and knew not to leave anything important that could give his whereabouts out where just any snoop could find it.

"Where are we going now?" Harry asked as they stood in front of the Floo.

Hermione was taking a moment to gather herself. She hadn't had the best experience the last time they were there and that had been with Draco there as a buffer.

"Hermione?" Harry asked when she didn't answer.

The brunette turned stern eyes on her friend. "Before I tell you, promise me you're going there as my friend and protector if I need it, but _not _as Auror Harry Potter."

He hesitated briefly, but eventually nodded. "You have my word."

Hermione wasn't going to say it, but she was kind of glad that her friend would be going with her. Though she knew it wasn't true, there was something about a Harry that made her feel safe even in the worst situations. It was probably because they'd managed to come out on top in some pretty impossible situations in the past. Why should that change just because they were older?

She grabbed a handful of Floo powder in one hand and Harry's wrist in the other before dragging him into the fireplace, throwing the powder down, and clearly shouting "Malfoy Manor!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**A/N: Okay, this chapter is unbetaed, I got impatient. Any mistakes (and there's probably a bunch) are my fault.**

**Anyway! Thanks to all the wonderful people who took the time to review! You guys are the reason I have so much fun writing! **

**If there was some confusion about what Draco's been up to, I hope this chapter clears it up. If not, feel free to PM me or review and ask.**

**~Frosty**

The first thing Hermione noticed upon taking in her surroundings was that it was loud. She could hear the din that came from hundreds of voices engaged in polite conversation filtering through the air to her ears. In addition to the sound of many voices, there was the sedate tinkling of music intended to provide a relaxing background to conversations rather than entertainment by itself.

She looked over at Harry, who had his wand out and was staring towards shadows as if he was expecting them to be harbouring Death Eaters.

If Hermione was right about the purpose of the party they could hear, then it was entirely possible that at least a few of the shadows in the Manor were occupied by former Death Eaters. But it was more likely that they were out in the open, smiling and socializing as if they weren't working towards the eradication of their fellow humans.

Hosting a gathering of Death Eaters and trying to change the opinions the old families had held for centuries wasn't exactly a safe pursuit. If Draco got himself killed while still not talking to her, she was going to bring him back from the dead just to kill him again. She didn't want to lose him so soon after finding him again.

"Do you think he's here?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Probably," Hermione said. Draco rarely did something when he hadn't thought through all the possible outcomes. Throwing a ball in an attempt to change something so set as the opinions of Purebloods and then not being present to influence people would be pointless and not at all Draco's style.

"Well, he's got to be here somewhere. All we have to do is somehow search the place without any of the guests seeing us," Harry said with a false optimism that didn't suit him at all. "I assume you have a general idea where this party is located?"

Hermione tried to remember where the ballroom was. She _thought _she could lead them there, and if she couldn't they could just follow the sound of voices. It wasn't much of a plan, but rushing in without a plan was kind of Harry's way, so she hoped it would work for him once more.

"Did you know there was going to be a party here tonight?" Harry whispered as he crept behind her in the dark hallway.

"No, I was just going to ask Narcissa what she knew."

Had she known there was going to be a party, Hermione wouldn't have risked herself, and more importantly, her baby by entering a nest of Death Eaters. But she was already there and she needed answers. Her curiosity wasn't going to let her just leave.

For some reason, she didn't feel quite so unwelcome in the Manor this time around. If she had to hazard a guess, she'd say that it could be because she was carrying a Malfoy with her this time instead of just walking beside one. Maybe the Manor would recognise a Malfoy even if the child was born out of wedlock and only a Half-blood.

Her musing about the Manor stopped when they reached the large double doors of the ballroom. The sound of voices was coming from inside. She glanced over at Harry, who gave her an encouraging nod. Whatever she wanted to do, he would back her.

* * *

><p>Draco forcefully repressed a scowl as yet another crotchety old woman told him that she "had a lovely niece he would just <em>love<em>". He was _tired _of old women trying to set him up with their daughters, granddaughters and nieces. He had Hermione and he was _happy _with her. It was driving him spare that he couldn't just tell them all to bugger off, that he wasn't interested in their screechy, overly made up relatives.

If he and his mother succeeded with their goals, he'd be able to proudly take Hermione out in public and tell everyone that she was his. He could take her out to fancy restaurants and bring her as his date to every ball his mother forced him to attend.

He could marry her. They'd wasted enough time apart, so he wasn't worried about proposing too soon. He'd even got the family ring from his mother along with her blessing on the marriage. Now all that was left was to make it safe for her to be able to marry him. He would never forgive himself if Hermione died just because she was with him.

"She's been attending Beaubatons, so you can guarantee that she has all the proper training for a good, Pureblooded wife," the woman blathered on while Draco tried not to gouge his eyes out with his wand in a desperate attempt to escape the mind-numbingly boring party.

He had to remind himself that he had a purpose.

Ever since he'd known that Hermione had been willing to start up a relationship again, Draco had been chewing on the problem of how they were going to be able to be together. It had been his mother who had suggested that they throw a ball and subtly bring up the blood purity issue. Gradually, they'd begun to influence people into seeing things from their perspective. It helped that even while their name meaning less than it had before Lucius had bollocksed everything up with Voldemort, society still held the Malfoys to a higher standard than most. If the Malfoys said it was uncouth to discriminate against Muggleborns, then half the battle was already won.

Unfortunately, it was those who were more stubborn in their beliefs that were going to cause the problems. Their stubborn beliefs were exactly what would lead them to try and hurt Hermione.

"I'd be much more open to these ridiculous notions of you and your mother if you were to at least dance with her," the sly women added when it became obvious that Draco had absolutely no interest in her niece.

One thing Draco hated about dealing with former Slytherins was that even if they were in complete agreement with you, they would still ask for favours in order to gain their support. Nothing was free and Draco was asking for big things from his fellow Purebloods. He was going to have to make sacrifices if he wanted them to throw their lot in with him. Sacrifices like dancing with nieces he was sure would be as clingy and irritating as their aunts.

Having done all they could within England, Draco was leaving on a tour of Europe. There would be no point changing the popular opinion amongst the Purebloods of England if the rest of the world still practiced the old ways. He'd heard that some countries were much more open to those of less than 'pure' blood. Those were going to be his first stop.

He sighed, thinking of Hermione for what felt like the millionth time. All of his hard work would be worth it when she was safe and he could openly be with her.

This was, of course, only after she had forgiven him for leaving her without any warning. Her fury was going to be without bounds when he finally returned. He cringed internally just thinking about it. Everything was worth it if it meant that they could have the life he'd always dreamed.

* * *

><p>Hermione cast a Disillusionment charm on herself before peeking around the slightly ajar door. It provided her with a detailed glimpse inside the world of glitz and glamour that Draco had been born into. Everyone was so fancy and sparkling, perfectly made up, while she would have been plain in comparison.<p>

When she caught sight of Draco, she couldn't help but sigh. He looked amazing in formal wear, very dashing and handsome. The little smile she'd been wearing while ogling her Slytherin dropped slightly when she noticed the beauty dancing with him.

As Hermione watched, Draco leaned down and whispered something in the girl's ear, smirking. He didn't look like dancing with her was exactly a chore. Hermione couldn't blame him, really. That girl was probably everything his parents had hoped for in a wife for their son, everything Hermione wasn't.

Jealously coursing through her veins like hot poison, Hermione jumped away from the door as if burned. She wasn't going to hide there and watch as some _whore _put her hands all over Draco. Hermione shouldn't have come to the Manor, she didn't belong there.

"What's wrong?" Harry whispered.

Hermione shook her head, even though he couldn't see her.

Taking matters into his own hands, Harry slid around her and looked inside himself. There was a pause as he took in the scene, and then: "I'm going to _kill_ him," he growled.

Hermione peeked under his arm, wondering why a dance had made Harry so upset. Sure, it caused her a twinge of pain to see them together, but Harry wouldn't have had the same jealous reaction. She saw immediately why there was a problem. Draco was no longer just dancing with the girl, they were practically snogging right there in the middle of the dance floor. The woman had her arms flung around Draco's neck and hands tangled in his hair; she looked like she was trying to get her tongue as far down the blond's throat as was physically possible.

As Hermione watched, the girl pulled away and directed a sultry smile at Draco.

That was all she could take. Hermione moved away from the door, dragging a protesting Harry behind her. Harry was set on going back there and hexing Draco, but Hermione didn't want that.

"It was a mistake coming here, let's go," she mumbled to her friend.

Harry looked skeptical, but he stopped protesting and wordlessly followed her back to the fireplace. It was probably best he left anyway; hexing Draco would cause all kinds of legal and political trouble.

Just as Hermione was about to throw her handful of Floo powder into the flames, someone cleared their throat behind them.

Both Harry and Hermione whipped around, wands drawn. Hermione's Disillusionment had worn off, leaving her just as exposed as her friend.

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said in her usual cultured way, "I wasn't aware that you would be in attendance tonight. In fact, Draco was adamant that you not be informed of any of the goings on at the Manor." The blonde woman raised an eyebrow in silent question. She hadn't outright asked what Hermione was doing there, but the implication had been clear.

"Draco left me a note saying he was going to disappear for a few weeks, possibly months. He didn't even say goodbye. I just came here to see if you knew what was going on," Hermione explained apologetically. She was starting to see why Draco had been so determined to keep her far away from the Manor.

Narcissa almost imperceptibly pursed her lips. "Come with me," she ordered. Turning cool eyes to Harry, she said, "Mr. Potter, I trust that you can keep yourself out of sight while I speak with your friend?"

Harry immediately cast a Disillusionment charm on himself. While he didn't like the Malfoy matriarch's tone, he knew Hermione wanted to know what the woman had to say, and he wasn't going to ruin that for his friend. He would do as Mrs. Malfoy had asked and keep himself out of sight.

Giving a satisfied nod towards the spot where Harry had just disappeared, Narcissa led the way to a vacant sitting room. She closed the door behind her and then silenced it.

"Draco loves you very much," Narcissa said, rounding on Hermione as soon as she knew no one could listen in on their conversation. She was being surprisingly open considering she was a Malfoy, and they usually withheld information for as long as possible. "What you have to understand is that part of the way he shows his love is by making sure you have everything you could ever possibly want. Just because you haven't outright told him that the acceptance of Muggleborns as equal to Purebloods would make you happy doesn't mean he's not aware of this fact."

When Hermione remained silent, Narcissa continued. "He wants to be able to openly date you, to marry you without worry that it would lead to your death."

Hermione nodded weakly. On some deep level, she knew all of this, but did he have to go about achieving his goals by kissing beauty queens?

"I trust him," she huffed, "But I hate how he always leaves me out of his plans. I'm perfectly capable of helping _and _of taking care of myself. I'm not some frail doll that's meant to sit around and look pretty." Immediately, Hermione was embarrassed that she had voiced her irritation with Draco to his mother, but the woman didn't seem to mind. If anything, she appeared amused.

"I'm afraid he gets that from his father," Narcissa said with a chuckle, a nostalgic glint in her eyes. "Lucius always believed that it was a man's job to dote on his wife while ruling his household with an iron fist. He raised Draco with the understanding that a woman should never have to live in fear. That's part of why Lucius allied himself with the Dark Lord. He believed that such a powerful ally would ensure the protection of his family. He never forgave himself for being so wrong."

"That's sweet... in a completely archaic and slightly twisted kind of way," Hermione murmured to herself.

Narcissa must have heard, because her laugh filled the room, soft and musical. Embarrassed, Hermione chuckled along with her.

Their amusement was shattered when the door burst open, revealing Draco dragging Harry behind him by a handful of his shirt. The blond looked livid.

* * *

><p>Harry watched Hermione and Narcissa Malfoy disappear into a side room, wondering what in the world he was supposed to do while they had their little heart to heart. With nothing better to do, he made his way back to the ballroom door. Maybe if he spied some more, he could get a better idea of what was happening. Hermione had made him promise that he wasn't going to be an Auror while visiting, but just because he was forbidden to press charges or arrest anyone didn't mean that he couldn't get an idea of who he should watch in the future, who was up to no good.<p>

He had just reached the crack in the door when it opened on its own. A nervous and jittery Theodore Nott slipped out, followed by Malfoy, looking stony-faced.

What could be going on there? Never able to turn up the chance for some snooping, Harry followed after them as they climbed a staircase and slipped into a dark passageway.

A dull thump from around the corner made Harry hurry to see what was happening.

Malfoy had grabbed the other man and thrown him against the wall before pointing his wand right between the cowering man's wide eyes.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out it was you who sent those thugs when you were bragging about it in my own house?" the blond hissed, sounding more threatening than Harry would have ever thought him capable.

Obviously terrified, Nott cowered against the wall, but his eyes were defiant. "We only had your best interests in mind. You're going to ruin your future for a Mudblo-" He broke off as Draco's free hand settled around his throat and squeezed tightly.

"Killing the woman I love is not the way to look out for me," Draco snarled.

Nott flinched, but there wasn't really anything more he could do while Draco had such a tight grip in his throat and his wand trained at his forehead.

"Nothing can come of that relationship," Nott rasped. "Unless you plan on locking me up in this labyrinth of a house of yours, it's going to happen again, I'm not going to give up until she's died in the most undignified way I can invent – and trust me, I can be creative."

Suddenly icy, Draco pulled back and examined the other man. With a whispered "Legilimens," he entered Nott's mind, ruthlessly scouring it for any information. The man he had once considered a friend meant every word of what he'd said. He wasn't going to rest until Hermione was lying dead and broken in an alley somewhere. Theo cared more about keeping the Malfoy line pure than he did about the happiness of his friend or the life of an innocent woman. He was a true fanatic who was going to do everything in his power to kill Hermione.

"You were wrong," Draco said softly. "I'm not going to lock you up anywhere, you're too dangerous to Hermione."

Before Nott could ask what he meant, Draco said those two words that every magical person dreaded hearing: "Avada Kedavera".

Shocked that the same person who hadn't had it in him to kill Dumbledore had just murdered someone he'd once called a friend in cold blood, Harry stumbled back a step. Unfortunately, his foot caught on the edge of a carpet and he went sprawling on the floor ungracefully and with enough noise that Draco whipped around and rushed over.

"Potter," Draco spat, "I should have known you'd find your way here." He Disillusioned Nott's body and grabbed a handful of Harry's shirt, dragging him up from the floor and bringing them nose to nose.

"Tell me you had the sense to come here alone," Draco ordered, shaking the other man slightly. He didn't even need Harry to respond, the answer was plain in his emerald eyes. ""Where is she?" he demanded.

Seeing no reason to lie, Harry explained that she was in a vacant room by the ballroom.

Malfoy didn't release him, instead he dragged Harry along behind him as he stormed through the corridors. The tight grip Draco had on Harry's shirt only released once he had shoved open the door to reveal a startled Hermione and Narcissa.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**A/N: Okay! We have Hermione's reaction to the whole Draco thing and some more of their history. **

**A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate all of them.**

**Also, if anyone wants to volunteer to beta this story, I'd be grateful. **

**~Frosty**

Once, while in school, Hermione had seriously considered casting a memory charm on Draco to make him forget something.

_Hermione shifted slightly to make herself more comfortable on the sofa. The problem with curling up around books was that she was of the habit of reading such large books. They actually hurt her lap after a while and her poor wrists were strained from keeping it upright. Her problem was that Draco was leaning against her side, resting his head on her thigh as he slept. She couldn't move to make herself comfortable without first waking him up. Sleep for him was something that didn't happen very often and she didn't want to ruin it just because she was a little uncomfortable._

_Her efforts were in vain; the minute shifting she'd been doing while trying to return circulation to her legs must have been enough to wake him. When she glanced at him, his grey eyes were blinking up at her sleepily._

_She smiled down at him with affectionate apology and took a hand off of her book to run her fingers through his hair. _

"_I didn't mean to wake you."_

_He waved off the apology. "I can't sleep for too long anyway, I have too much work for sleep."_

_Hermione knew better than to ask him what work he had to do. It was an unspoken agreement of theirs; she didn't comment on his task for Voldemort and he didn't ask about her work for the Order. Their agreement didn't, however, mean that she wasn't burning with curiosity about what was taking up so much of Draco's time and weighing so heavily on his mind._

_To change the subject, he peeked at the book she was reading. "Memory Modification and its Dangers," he read aloud. "Thinking of altering some memories? You seem to be reading a lot about that spell recently."_

_The boy was too observant for his own good sometimes. Hermione looked down at him pensively, debating whether to Obliviate him, tell him the truth, or to just play it off as nothing. Unfortunately, she waited too long for the playing it off as nothing option. _

_It was dangerous to tell him the truth, his mind wasn't completely his own. He was getting more skilled at Occulmency every day because he was taking lessons from Snape, but his sills weren't a match for Voldemort's Legilimency. Though she supposed if she left out key details it wouldn't be too dangerous to tell him what she was planning._

"_If you're thinking about Obliviating me, it won't work," he said. His tone implied that he didn't believe she was considering using the spell on him, but he was serious about the spell not working on him._

"_What do you mean?" she asked._

"_One percent of the population is completely immune to the spell," he shrugged. "I'm one of the lucky few."_

_Hermione didn't ask why he knew he was immune to the spell. It was probably something personal that she had no business knowing. Remembering that someone had tried to take something so personal as a memory from him couldn't have been a pleasant experience and she didn't want him to relive it._

"_Now are you going to answer my question, or is this one of those things that I'd best forget about and never mention again?"_

_Hermione stared into his eyes for a moment. This was Draco and she trusted him. She couldn't tell Harry and Ron about her plan, the image of their horrified faces would probably haunt her. It had been bad enough going to the Order and explaining her plan. She wasn't sure Molly would ever be able to look at her again without sympathy and a glimmer of horror in her eyes. It killed Hermione a little every time she remembered Molly's expression._

"_It's for my parents," she finally whispered, having found nothing in his eyes except curiosity and a little worry. He didn't want her involved in anything that would get her killed and he obviously feared that this was going to be another one of those life-threatening things in which she routinely tangled herself._

"_What?" He was sure he'd heard her wrong._

_Hermione stopped absentmindedly running her fingers through his hair and slipped a bookmark in her book so she could wring her hands together. She didn't want Draco to be giving her a look similar to the one Molly had worn; she wouldn't be able to bear Draco looking at her that way._

_Ignoring her fears, she pushed on with the explanation._

"_It's too dangerous for them to stay where they are, especially since things are only going to escalate from here. This way, they'll be safe and they won't even have to worry about me because they won't know that I exist." She didn't notice that she had tears running down her cheeks until Draco reached over and wiped one away. He stared at the crystalline drop on the tip of his finger for a moment, expressionless._

_Hermione's heart rate picked up as the silence stretched. She was sure he was going to reject her and push her away. On top of everything else going on, she wasn't sure she could handle it if he left her too._

"_That's either completely selfless or insane, I'm not sure which," he commented, pulling her against his side and squeezing her. "Either way, you have to be aware that it takes something from a person when you remove their memories. We're only the sum of our experiences after all, and removing bits of those experiences changes a person."_

_Hermione nodded against his shoulder. His words should have made her feel worse, but he had a way of laying out the truth that, though harsh, was comforting. He didn't think she was wrong, he was just making sure she was going to be aware of the consequences of her actions; that she was going to be taking something very important from her parents without their permission._

"_Promise me something?" she asked._

"_Within reason," Draco hedged. He took promises seriously, so he was careful about making them._

"_Promise me you'll never do that to me," she said._

_Draco stiffened before pulling away and looking down at her. "Why would that even be an issue?"_

"_I just have this horrible feeling that one day you're going to decide I'm safer without you and Obliviate me before leaving forever. Just promise me."_

_The thought had crossed his mind a few times; Draco was surprised she'd figured it out. He'd thought he was more careful with his thoughts than that. Maybe Hermione just knew him better than he'd given her credit for._

"_Fine, I promise never to Obliviate you," he said. She relaxed against him with a sigh of relief._

"_No matter what," she insisted._

"_No matter what," Draco echoed._

* * *

><p>Draco shoved Harry off to the side, not paying him any more attention as he rounded on Hermione.<p>

"What the _hell _are you doing here?" he demanded, stepping forward to loom over the petite brunette. His eyes were flashing with icy anger, showing none of the love she'd become used to. He was looking at her with the same expression he usually reserved for Harry and Ron; a mixture of anger and disgust.

Hermione was undaunted by his intimidating expression. "You told me you're going to go away for a while and then just disappeared on me! Did you really expect me to sit around and wait for you to come back? I'm not that person."

His eyes were still hard. "You're going to ruin everything by sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!" he snarled.

Already large hair bristling in indignation, Hermione glared right back at him, her eyes spitting fire. "Ruin what, that little snogging session you were having on the dance floor with that tramp?"

"You know that wasn't what it looked like."

She rolled her eyes. "So you weren't standing there while she rubbed against you like a stripper with her pole? And I'm sure she was merely practicing her mouth to mouth resuscitation after that?"

"It meant nothing, and you'd know that if you'd stop letting your insecurities turn you into a harpy-like shrew," Draco snapped.

A blink was all the reaction Hermione allowed to show that he'd hurt her.

Before she could start yelling at the idiot blond, Harry stepped forward, his eyes flashing. He'd been quiet until then, but he wasn't going to allow Malfoy to abuse his friend. "Don't talk to her like that!"

Draco rounded on Harry and raised his wand. "I should Obliviate you. Letting you keep your memories is only going to cause me trouble in the future."

Hermione put herself between the angry blond and her friend.

"You'd have to do the same to me," she said. "And you promised you never would."

Harry looked at her with a sympathy that gave her a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was terribly wrong. "I'm pretty sure that promise will be broken if he thought it would keep him out of Azkaban," he said to his friend.

Shooting a disbelieving look at Draco, whose face had completely shut down, Hermione asked, "What are you talking about, Harry?"

"I just watched him Avada Theodore Nott for sending those thugs after you," Harry said.

Hermione actually took a few steps back from the blond. "Draco?" she asked.

She stared at her blond lover with wide, horrified eyes. Killing someone during wartime was one thing, but killing them in cold blood was something else entirely. How was she supposed to raise a child with a man who killed the people who disagreed with him?

"He wasn't going to stop until you were broken and dead," Draco said through clenched teeth.

A choked sound escaped Hermione's throat at Draco's admission of guilt.

Narcissa, who had been watching silently until that moment, spoke. "Draco was only doing what's best for you."

"What's best for me would be going to the authorities and reporting these people!" Hermione yelled. She wasn't looking at Narcissa; her hurt gaze was still focused on Draco.

"Get out of here," Draco ordered.

Hermione pursed her lips and clenched her fists in anger; she hated it when Draco did this. Whenever things got tough, he shoved her violently away until the danger was over, probably thinking that it was for her own good. For a Slytherin, it was remarkably selfless of him, but it drove Hermione spare. She wasn't a helpless person, needing to be sheltered and protected all the time.

"That's never worked on me and it's not about to start," Hermione snapped at Draco. He should know better than to try and bully her into anything. "I'm not leaving until you give me a proper explanation!" She wanted to stop her foot for emphasis, but she felt that it would make her come across as too childish.

"The Malfoys have long held a lot of clout within Pureblood society. Mother and I have been working on making those crotchety old bastards more open-minded." Draco didn't even look at her while he explained and his lines were delivered as quickly as possible. He wanted her gone as quickly as possible.

Hermione crossed her arms. "So basically, you've been shielding me from involvement in this whole thing while at the same time making a target of yourself, and now you're _murdering _people!"

Draco remained reticent and Narcissa looked slightly pained. That was all the answer Hermione needed.

"Let's go, Harry," Hermione said tiredly. She wasn't going to accomplish anything besides hurting herself further by staying.

Harry nodded, but before leaving the room after Hermione he turned back to the blond. "While I don't agree with what you're doing, I promised Hermione that I wasn't an Auror while I'm here. I didn't see anything I witnessed tonight, but tomorrow, expect me here investigating the mysterious disappearance of Theodore Nott," he said.

Draco nodded his thanks, but Harry missed it, having already turned to follow Hermione out of the room.

* * *

><p>When Harry arrived back at his house, Hermione was already ranting to Ginny. In the few seconds since Harry had last seen her, Hermione seemed to have come undone. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair was everywhere, and she appeared to be on the verge of tears even while she was angrily ranting.<p>

"Who are we kidding?" Hermione practically wailed. "We had a thing when we were sixteen! That doesn't translate into a healthy adult relationship, it just means we're a pair of sappy idiots hanging onto the past so tightly we can't see that we don't work anymore. How am I supposed to bring a baby into the world when the father is off on a vigilante mission that involves _killing people in cold blood_?"

"Hermione, all this stress isn't good for the baby. I think you should go to bed," Ginny said slowly. She was a little worried that her friend was going to pop.

"Baby?" Harry echoed, looking between the two women. His expression made it clear that he was sure he'd heard wrong.

Suddenly drained in more ways than one, Hermione sagged where she stood. She didn't want to have to explain to Harry about her approaching motherhood, she just didn't have the energy. She turned around and trudged up the stairs, strains of the conversation between her friends following her.

* * *

><p>That night, Hermione dreamed of the past.<p>

_It was a sunny day, the beautiful weather completely at odds with the dark atmosphere at the school and in the Magical world in general._

_Hermione, needing an escape from all the horrors she'd been dealing with of late, was lounging in the sunlight by the lake. There was only so much stress one sixteen year old could take before she snapped, and Hermione was reaching her limit. The whole situation was made worse by the fact that Draco and Snape had been absent from school the previous day._

_The official excuse had been family troubles, but she knew that was just a cover for visiting with Voldemort. A visit with the man who fancied himself the Lord of Darkness were guaranteed to be unpleasant, especially since Draco's assigned task wasn't going as fast as Voldemort had hoped. She'd barely slept the night before, worried sick about her blond classmate who had found his way into her heart._

_A shuffling in the Forbidden Forest nearest to her drew her attention. Hand on her wand, Hermione went to investigate the sound._

_She knew better than to go into the forest without her wand at the ready, there were too many things in there aligned with Voldemort that would salivate at the idea of tearing her limb from limb. They shouldn't be able to get her, but things had breached the defences of her school before and she wasn't willing to bet her life on it not happening again._

"_Over here," someone whispered._

_Hermione immediately whipped around, her wand pointing between the trees. The sunlight that had been bright by the lake was filtered down through multiple layers of green leaves in the forest, leaving a gloom amongst the trees that obscured the speaker. _

"_Who's there?" she demanded._

_Hands raised to show he was unarmed, Draco emerged from behind a tree._

_Immediately, Hermione launched herself towards him, but she stopped just before she strangled him in a hug. He looked horrible. One of his eyes was blackened, there was a slight tremor to his hands, and he winced almost imperceptibly with every breath, suggesting a broken rib._

"_What happened to you?" she asked. At her sides, her fingers clenched an unclenched repeatedly, wanting to touch him, but worried she was going to cause him more pain with the contact._

_It was Draco who closed the rest of the space between them and wrapped her in a hug._

"_Hermione, you have to get out of here," he said firmly. His head was buried in the crook of her neck and the sound slightly muffled by her hair, but she heard him just fine. It was believing what she'd heard that was giving her difficulty. Somehow, she knew he wasn't just telling her to get out of the forest; he was telling her to abandon everyone she cared about and run. Draco had to know there was no getting rid of her that easily. _

"_I'm staying and when the time comes, I'm going to fight," she said with just as much force as he'd used to order her to run. She'd told him this before, but he insisted on trying to get her to leave every few days or so._

_He nuzzled his nose against her warm neck, squeezing her tighter even though it made his broken ribs twinge in pain._

"_A part of me would die if anything happened to you," he said into her hair. "I can't lose you."_

_Hermione snuggled against him. He smelled of fear, sweat, and pain, but underneath that was the familiar and comforting scent of Draco. "The only way you'd ever lose me would be if you start treating me like some delicate flower. I can and will fight for myself. I don't need a protector, I need a partner. Do you think you can do that?"_

_For a long time, Draco was silent, but he eventually nodded. "Only if you accept that occasionally, I'm going to want to take care of you. You're just going to have to trust me."_

_She supposed she could live with that._

Hermione woke with a gasp.

They'd thought things were complicated during the war, but they hadn't even been able to comprehend the meaning of the word back then. Complicated had taken on a whole new meaning from the moment Hermione had thrown herself at Draco in his office.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**A/N: Hello readers! I apologise for taking so long to update this story... I honestly didn't realize how long it's been since I last updated. Actually I got a bit of a surprise when I went into the file to get this chapter... Apparently I finished writing this story and then forgot about it! There're actually only 12 chapters, so we're almost at the end. **

**A huge thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed and I'll try to get the next chapters up quicker. Oh! And this isn't betaed, so mistakes are all mine. **

**~Frosty**

It was kind of depressing to be choosing baby clothes alone. Hermione had always thought there would be a doting father-to-be in the background, complaining about her taking too long to choose things when all the little onesies all looked pretty much the same.

Over three months along now, Hermione was showing quite a bit. When she was in public she was forced to glamour the evidence of her growing child to avoid notice. Rite Skeeter would just _love_ to print a story postulating the father. Hermione didn't think it fair that Draco find out he was a father from a gossip article in a newspaper somewhere.

If he had stayed in the country, Hermione would have already told him about his child. Unfortunately, she hadn't seen him since the night of the party at the Manor. Those same newspapers she wanted to keep from getting wind of her pregnancy were her only source of information on Draco.

Every week there was a new picture of him with a beauty queen on his arm as he attended another ball somewhere. She knew he was trying to do good things, but she wasn't so secure that she didn't sometimes cry over it.

Maybe it was hormones.

No, it was the hormones that made her cry whenever she got a good look at her expanding stomach in the mirror, this was something that would upset any woman. She wasn't vain about her increasing size, but she was terrified about being a mother and she didn't even have Draco there for her.

She needed him!

Now she was crying over booties. Angrily dashing away her tears, Hermione brought the booties and a few sets of baby clothes to the front of the store. Her hair and face were spelled so that she didn't look like herself; she didn't want it to get out that Hermione Granger was all over town buying baby clothes and accessories, people would start asking questions.

The clerk smiled knowingly at her tears. "They're just so tiny and adorable, aren't they?" she asked.

Hermione nodded, giving the other woman a polite smile but not commenting. If she said something, Hermione was worried that she'd cry even more.

When she got back to Harry and Ginny's house, the redhead gave her a sympathetic look. "Shopping for baby clothes again?"

Harry was seated beside the redhead at their kitchen table. He was pouring over a case file, scowling.

After a nod to Ginny, Hermione turned to Harry.

She needed to not talk about the baby clothes at the moment and Harry provided the perfect distraction. Hermione knew that Ginny understood and didn't take offence, and she loved her all the more for her understanding.

"Having trouble with a case?"

"If I didn't witness it with my own eyes, I'd have no way to know that Malfoy actually killed Theodore Nott. He's covered his tracks so thoroughly that it's almost as if nothing's happened," said Harry.

Harry and Ginny shared a look that Hermione couldn't decipher. "Hermione, why don't you stay home from work today? I think you could use a rest," Harry said slowly, knowing the suggestion wasn't going to go over well with his friend.

Rolling her eyes at them, Hermione wished she lived alone for what felt like the millionth time. She appreciated everything they were doing for her, but it would be nice to be able to sneeze without someone suggesting that maybe she should go sit down for a while. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid," she snapped. "I'm going to work today."

She stood from the table and stormed towards her room. If Draco wasn't allowed to coddle her without repercussions, Harry and Ginny certainly weren't going to get away with the same thing.

* * *

><p>Hermione missed coffee. How was she supposed to deal with the incompetence of her coworkers when she wasn't even allowed her cup of coffee in the morning to fortify her against their stupidity? Even worse, she wasn't allowed to wind down with a glass of wine and a good book in the evenings?<p>

Combined with the stress of worrying for Draco's life and her swollen ankles and achy feet, she was not exactly the nicest person in the world of late. In fact, a few of the newer interns in her department refused to even go near her office.

She sighed gustily as she finished completing yet another form. Blown by her breath, the form fluttered to the ground and all ten sheets of it scattered across the floor. Evil things.

With her hidden bump, kneeling on the floor wasn't the easiest thing in the world. But, forgetting about her wand, that was exactly what she did. Sighing once more and trying to restrain a groan, she lowered herself to the floor, using her desk to slow the descent.

Unsurprisingly, by the time she had gathered the form from the floor and left her office to deliver them, she was more than a little frazzled. She could only imagine what work was going to be like when she was eight months pregnant.

She was shuffling them into the right order as she stalked through the halls. So intent on her task was she that she didn't notice someone moving towards her from the opposite direction. The other person must have been equally occupied because he barrelled right into her.

Hermione let out a startled squeak as she fell. She just had time to worry about hurting the baby when strong arms wrapped around her waist and shoulders to stop her fall. Shocked, she looked up and met grey eyes that were getting stormier by the second.

"Are you all right?" he demanded.

She had barely nodded when he dragged her into an empty office, slamming the door behind him. He used his wand to silence and lock the door behind him, making sure no one would be able to interrupt them.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked.

"Really? We're going to talk about _me _right now?" he growled.

She crossed her arms. This wasn't exactly the reunion she'd been hoping for. She'd actually been picturing something with a lot more yelling and then some make up sex. Well, a lot of make up sex, and then she wasn't going to let him out of her sight ever again.

"You're the one who left me to go off gallivanting around with a string of the prettiest women you can find, so yes, we're going to talk about you," said Hermione. She was angry enough that she could feel tears starting in her eyes, her emotions were so jumbled at the moment.

"Well, unless you've gained a few stone around the middle and are self-conscious about it, I'd say you're pregnant. You didn't waste any time, did you? Who's the bloke who knocked you up, huh?"

Hermione could only blink at him.

"Did you just accuse me of cheating on you? I'm pregnant with your child and the first thing you accuse me of is cheating?" Sometimes she just wanted to _strangle _him! He was the one who was always off with other women, how was she to know that he wasn't shagging the lot of them? That would make it so much easier to pound his point home, so to speak.

"Well, it certainly isn't _mine_, we used contraceptives every time."

The tears were overflowing now as Hermione let her anger wash over her. She needed to stay angry, because if she stopped the anger, she'd give into the despair.

"That spell Ginny cast on me renders any contraceptive ineffective and made the both of us extra fertile," said Hermione.

His stern face immediately softened and he reached for her, but Hermione sidestepped his arms.

"I'm going to be a father?" he asked, managing to make those words both filled with awe and terror. That was essentially how Hermione had been feeling for the last few months.

He had hurt her with is accusations, yet the thing she wanted most was to throw herself into his arms. She longed for the safe, comforting feeling she knew she'd find there.

"Yes," Hermione snapped, "Now you get to answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Draco made a face of distaste. "Potter's found new evidence on Nott's case, he's called me in for questioning."

That explained why Harry had wanted her to stay home from work. The git! He could have at least warned her that she may run into Draco while she was at work. She would have been livid if she'd heard that Draco was not only in the country but visiting the Ministry and hadn't stopped in to see her.

"Well, you don't want to keep him waiting," she said, tugging futilely on the doorknob. She'd forgotten that Draco had locked it with his wand. "Let me out."

"Hermione," said Draco, approaching her like she was a wild animal liable to attack – which she was at the moment.

"Hermione," he tried again, "If I had known, I would have-"

"What would you have done, Draco? Stayed with me? Continued exactly as you are now after sending me far, far away for 'safety reasons'?"

"Would you listen to me for just a minute without interrupting?" he demanded.

She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at him expectantly. Her expression said "out with it then".

Grabbing her shoulders, he slid his hands down her arms and then wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close against him. It was a little awkward because he wasn't used to accommodating the extra bulk around Hermione's middle, but they still fit together like they were made for each other.

Hermione sagged against him, letting out a deep breath. She may be upset, but she missed him so much.

"Everything I do is for you, Hermione. Not one of those women are even remotely interesting and every moment I have to pretend to be enthralled by their banal chatter, I'm wishing I was with you. Even when I'm furious with you, I want to be near you more than them."

She sniffled slightly, clinging to him. "Yet you thought I'd found someone else?"

He sighed into her hair and stroked her back. "Contraceptive charms are guaranteed, it was the only logical alternative."

"This isn't logical, this is me!" Hermione said. She was too upset to even realise that she wasn't really making sense. "I love you; do you really think I'd do something like that?"

"I left you. If you want to have a child with someone else, I'd deserve to watch while you lived happily with someone else. I could only hope that you would wait for me."

Hermione shoved at his shoulders, making him release her. "That's not what I asked! I asked if you really thought this baby wasn't yours."

"Hermione, I see you again for the first time in months and you're pregnant. I wasn't thinking logically."

Arms crossed and resting on top of her stomach, she waited.

"Fine," Draco sighed, "I apologise for my rash words."

Placated, Hermione let him take her back into his arms. It was where she wanted to be anyway, and she knew Draco regretted his accusation. She tilted her head to rest against his chest, listening to the comforting beating of his heart.

They stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other.

"Can I see it?" he asked.

Hermione looked at him in confusion. "See what?"

"The baby. I felt the bump, but I can't see it with those spells hiding it."

Blushing slightly, Hermione removed the spells, squeezing her eyes shut to block out his reaction. She was used to how fat she'd gotten, but she was just kind of springing it on Draco, he hadn't seen it happen gradually.

When he didn't say anything, she cracked an eye open to peek at him. All she saw was a swirl of his robes as he swept her up in his arms and rained kisses all over her face.

"You've never been more radiant," he said between kisses.

Hermione smiled and snuggled herself as close to him as possible. If she wasn't careful, she was going to get used to having him there again and, once again, she was only going to lose him.

Eventually Draco tried to pull away. "Hermione, Potter's going to get antsy if I'm late for the appointment."

"You're just going to run off again as soon as I let you go," she said, her voice more wobbly than she would have liked. He really was leaving again.

"I promise I'll come see you again before I leave," Draco soothed.

Hermione searched his face to make sure he was telling the truth. She saw no deception in his eyes, and Draco wasn't one to make promises he wasn't going to keep.

"Go see Harry then, I'm still staying at his house, so that's where you'll find me," said Hermione. She leaned in and stole one last kiss before propelling him out of the door.

* * *

><p>Hermione knew she was yelling too much. She could see Harry flinching every time she gestured too violently, but she couldn't seem to <em>stop <em>herself. It was rage or tears, and her friend deserved the former. He hadn't even told her that Draco was going to be in town and then tried to keep her from seeing him!

She didn't notice Draco lean in the doorway and frown at her as she jabbed Harry in the chest and told him he had no right detaining Draco back at the Ministry. The git had actually put Draco in holding with common criminals! She failed to see the blond sigh and enter the room.

When she did notice the new addition to the room, Hermione was so far into rage mode that she couldn't seem to stop.

"And _you_," she started, rounding on Draco.

Luckily, he knew how to handle her in these moods. Instead of cowering like her idiot friend, he grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug, trapping her arms between them before she could start with the surprisingly painful chest poking. He knew from experience that once she started the chest poking, he'd end up snapping back at her and the whole thing would just escalate from there. The stress of a shouting match probably wasn't good for the baby.

She only struggled for a moment before bursting into tears and clinging to him.

Draco ran his hand up and down her back and made shushing sounds in an attempt to soothe her.

He glared at Harry over Hermione's head. "You can't have thought the MLE could keep me anywhere for long."

Harry shook his head. "No, but I watched you kill someone and can't seem to prove it. On top of that, you knocked up my best friend and then left, leaving behind a string of newspaper articles with beautiful women. You deserved some time behind bars."

Gulping a few calming breaths, Hermione looked up at Draco. "Don't stay here hugging me like you're back if you're just going to leave me again," she ordered. She didn't want to get used to having him around again only to have it hurt that much more when he left.

His sigh said it all.

Immediately, Hermione pulled away from him. Better to start distancing herself before he left than have it hurt that much more once he was gone again.

"I'm going to make some tea," she said.

Harry watched her leave the room sadly. "How'd you know how to make the chest poking stop? She's been doing that to me and Ron for years, I think I have a permanent indent."

"Common sense, Potter. Most of the time, she's not really angry, just upset and lashing out. I can't imagine the hormones make it any better." Draco glanced towards the kitchen to make sure she couldn't hear them. "What did you do to make her so upset?"

Harry copied Draco's cautious glance towards the kitchen. "She's furious with me for trying to stop her from going to work, and she's upset that you're leaving again, which only makes it worse."

Hermione came back in with a tea tray of biscuits and multiple cups of tea.

She settled down on the sofa with the tray in front of her. When Draco reached for a biscuit, she slapped his hand away. "You can have one of the cups of tea, but the biscuits are mine."

Moodily, she began eating the sweet cookies and staring at the far wall, refusing to acknowledge either of the men. They both sat uncomfortably, Draco beside her on the sofa and Harry on a nearby chair.

"Potter, give us a minute?" Draco asked.

Hermione, with her mouth full of biscuits, huffed at that, but Harry nodded and left the room. "I'll be near enough to hear Hermione if she calls for me," he threatened.

"You don't have to say it, I know you're leaving again," Hermione said around her biscuit. Screw table manners, she was sitting on a sofa anyway.

"Only for the weekend, I have one ball left and then it'll be the end of it. Between the two of us, Mother and I have somehow managed to sway the majority into accepting Half-Bloods and Muggleborns. It helps that a large percentage of the Pureblood population isn't as pure as they'd like everyone to believe, they're just afraid to admit it." He rubbed a hand over the rounded stomach that she was no longer trying to hide. "If you'll let me, I'd like to stay with you tonight and then this weekend I have a ball to attend. After that, I'm all yours."

"You left me," she accused. It would be a while before that hurt faded.

"If I hadn't thought it to be in your best interests, nothing would have been able to pry me away from you, love."

Sometimes it annoyed Hermione that Draco always seemed to have a line prepared for everything, but she knew he meant everything he said so she let him get away with entirely too much.

Hermione fished out her wand and slowly dragged the tip down the side of Draco's face. The blond went very still, watching her carefully.

"If I didn't love you so much," Hermione said, "I'd murder you for making me so miserable. I'm sure Harry would help me hide the body."

There was a muffled sound of agreement from the other room; she'd scold Harry for eavesdropping later.

"You're lucky you also have the power to make me happier than anyone else."

Draco took that as an invitation and proceeded to snog her senseless – at least until a frazzled and slightly mortified Harry burst into the room and demanded they take it to Hermione's flat if they were going to continue. The raven-haired saviour of the world was muttering about burning the sofa as the couple left through the Floo, wrapped around each other.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**A/N: Okay! Sorry this has taken so long, I've had it up on my computer for over a week, just waiting for me to find the time. I moved yesterday, so things are quite chaotic, but I've finally managed to finish this. It was edited in bits though and this wasn't betaed, so if there's anything glaringly wrong, feel free to tell me and I'll go back and fix it.**

**Thanks to all the wonderful people who reviewed, it was you guys who gave me the kick I needed to finally open the file and start editing this!**

**~Frosty**

They both stumbled as the Floo spit them out in Hermione's flat. Draco was careful to catch Hermione as the extra weight around her middle threw her off balance. It had been a continuing problem for her recently and she was glad that her baby's father had such good reflexes. It seemed that when she was with him, she didn't have to worry so much about falling and hurting her child.

Draco tried to kiss her again, but she abruptly burst into a fit of giggles, ruining the moment with her mirth. He pulled away and looked at her questioningly.

"Did you see Harry's face?" she hiccupped, clinging to him as she tried to regain her breath. "I don't think he's ever going to let us in his house again."

Happy to see her smiling again, Draco stroked her hair away from her face to better see her glowing amusement. "Being banned from Potter's place is hardly a punishment, love," he said dryly.

Still chuckling, Hermione threw her arms around his neck and nuzzled her nose against his collarbone, taking in the comforting smell of him. He smelled like home and she'd been desperately missing him. The happy moment was darkened by the knowledge that he had willingly separated himself from her.

"I hate that you have to leave," she said, suddenly serious. "If I wasn't pregnant, I'd be right there, insisting you let me do something as well."

Draco knew that better than anyone. Hermione hated letting other people put themselves into danger on her behalf, especially if she was forced to the sidelines to wait and hope no one died for her. He rubbed a hand over her rounded stomach. "I know you would."

Internally, he was glad she was pregnant. Not only did it keep her safe far away from the danger, but it also pleased him to no end to see her swollen with his child. It marked her as his in ways he wasn't yet able to openly declare.

"Just be careful, won't you?" she asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes. It was all right there in her cinnamon orbs; how much she was going to miss him while he was gone, the severity of her devastation should something happen to him, and her terror that she was going to have to raise their child on her own.

He leaned down and kissed her instead of answering. Draco planned on doing his best to be careful, but he wasn't going to make her promises he couldn't keep. If the situation warranted it, he was going to have to take some risks even though it pained him to even think of leaving her alone to face the world.

Not missing his lack of an answer, Hermione kissed him back, putting all of her worry and feelings into the one gesture and clinging to him desperately. He better come back, she had a feeling his child was going to be a handful and she was going to need his help raising the little one.

"Hermione, stop," Draco said when she started unbuttoning his shirt.

She pulled back and looked up at him, wondering what in the world his problem was. His eyes were on her stomach, looking unsure.

Hermione sighed, having figured out what his issue was. "You're not going to hurt the baby," she said impatiently, going right back to removing his shirt.

It took some convincing, but Hermione was persistent and motivated.

"I told you the baby would be fine," she said later, tangled in his arms as they caught their breath.

"I'm glad I allowed you to persuade me." Draco kissed her shoulder blade as he shifted them into a position more comfortable for sleeping.

"I love you," she murmured right before falling asleep. Draco echoed her sentiments and pulled her closer.

* * *

><p>When Hermione woke up, Draco was gone and there were voices in the other room. Someone was <em>inside<em> her flat. The sleep immediately cleared from Hermione's mind.

"Did you have to kill that Auror?" someone hissed. "Now they're going to know something's wrong as soon as they get to the door."

The only answer was an impatient hiss to shut up.

Had she not lived through so much strife and war as a child, Hermione had no doubt that she would have been a useless puddle of terrified goo. Years of facing her fears and shoving away that crippling fear allowed her to take action.

Heart pounding frantically in her chest, Hermione grabbed her wand and immediately used her glamour charm on her stomach. She somehow had a feeling that whoever it was in her apartment wouldn't take it very well to find that she was pregnant with a half-blood Malfoy heir.

As silently as she could, she rolled out of bed and padded to the wall beside her door, pressing herself against the flat surface there with her wand at the ready. Her time battling Death Eaters was suddenly back in her mind and it was as if the war had never ended. A person doesn't easily forget something that traumatic.

Whoever it was who was in her house, they were done trying for subtlety once they got to her room. With a huge bang, the door was blasted right off of its hinges and into the room. Hermione was safe against the wall, away from the blasting zone. Had she remained in bed she would have had several nasty splinters and cuts from the shrapnel that used to be her door.

Hermione was panicked, but her wand was steady as she aimed it towards the new hole in her wall, waiting for them to enter.

When Pansy Parkinson stalked inside, Hermione felt a brief jolt of surprise before she stunned her and conjured ropes to bind her. She really shouldn't have been surprised that former classmates were out to do her harm, but Hermione liked to think the best of people. She liked to believe that even the Slytherins were just misunderstood and not actually the murderous Death Eater wannabes that most people assume them to be.

It seemed Hermione was the one who'd been wrong about them, not everyone could be Draco.

Wand in front of her, Hermione carefully peeked around the doorway, looking for the accomplice she had heard Parkinson speaking to. The feminine voice had been the one asking about the death of the Auror, which meant that her partner was the one who wasn't afraid to murder someone in cold blood.

Conscious thought retreated to the back of her mind as she let habit take over. Hermione's eyes swept over the room, not seeing him. Her flat was not a big place, she wasn't sure where he could be.

A scuffling behind her alerted her to the presence of someone else. He must have Disillusioned himself when Parkinson went down! Before Hermione could whip around and face him, he knocked her over the head with something heavy. Hermione was unconscious before she hit the floor, her last action being to curl around her stomach in an attempt to protect the baby from the impact with the floor.

* * *

><p>Hermione woke up in a small, stuffy room. Her first thought was for her baby. She ran her hands over her stomach, praying that her baby was fine. A well-timed kick from the little one assured her that she hadn't hurt the baby with her fall and subsequent capture.<p>

Reassured, she let out the breath she'd been holding. She also became aware of the pounding in her head. She probably had a concussion from that hit to the head. Hermione wasn't sure, but she suspected that her assailant had hit her over the head with one of her own books. Her baby was alive, but she had a feeling she was going to have to work to keep the both of them that way.

She took in her surroundings, not optimistic about her escape. The walls were lined with shelves that made the room even smaller. She appeared to be in a linen closet of sorts. Calling out would only alert her captor that she was conscious, and Hermione didn't want that.

She rushed to the door and frantically tugged on it. Of course, it was locked and her wand was nowhere in sight.

She was trapped.

In frustration, Hermione slammed her fists against the door. The thick wood didn't budge at all, but she hadn't really expected it to. The only thing lashing out had achieved was making her hand throb with every beat of her heart. She hoped she hadn't broken a bone.

That option exhausted, she started pulling blankets from shelves, hoping that there was some sort of weapon hidden somewhere in their folds. No such luck. She hadn't really expected anything – who kept an arsenal in their linen closet? – but she couldn't just sit there and wait for someone to come and kill her or whatever they planned to do now that they had her trapped.

She was just pulling a huge duvet down from the top shelf when the door opened and Blaise Zabini sauntered inside, his wand pointed right at her chest. He immediately hit her with a hex that sent her hurtling into the wall behind her. Luckily, the duvet came with her and cushioned the impact quite a bit, insulating her from injury save for a thumping of her head that only worsened her headache.

"I don't know what you've done to Draco, but I know his miraculous change in attitude is entirely your fault," he said conversationally.

Hermione was chilled by his careless tone. Anger would have been more appropriate for the situation, the fact that Zabini wasn't showing any while threatening her life suggested that he was either a sociopath or insane.

Her suspicions were leaning towards insane.

"I didn't notice it at first," he continued with the same conversational tone. "Something changed about him during sixth year, but I just assumed he was having some issues with keeping on top of the task Voldemort had assigned him. I forgot all about it when he went back to normal after Voldemort's fall. It was only recently that it started happening again. He would stare off into space with this look on his face, completely ignoring whatever I was saying. I assumed he was sick or something, but it persisted. It took me forever to pinpoint what had happened."

_He was happy_, Hermione wanted to say. Had she not been worried that he'd hurt her baby with his next hurling hex, she would have spoken up. Why was it that all evil villains insisted on monologing before they got on with their evil work? If she had to hazard a guess, Hermione would say that it was connected to their megalomania that was part of their evil problem in the first place.

"Draco's just lucky it's not too late to repair the damage he's done. You disappear and everything will go back to the way it should be." He paused and stared off into space, probably remembering the good old days when he and Draco would gleefully shove smaller children down and then mock them for having blood they deemed "muddy".

Besides the obvious answer of "you're barmy," there was really nothing Hermione could say. Zabini was obviously very happy in his world of delusions and willing to kill in order to allow them to continue.

"Poetic, isn't it?" He continued, oblivious to the fact that Hermione was barely listening as he prattled on about completely moronic things. "You're going to die here in Malfoy Manor and Draco will never think to look within his own house for his precious Mudblood. And the icing on the cake: it'll be the Manor that does away with you, leaving me free of guilt."

She touched a hand to her head, pretending to swoon from her impact with the wall. He'd have to stop talking if he thought she was unconscious, right? Hermione hoped so.

To her good fortune, he wandered closer to check if she was still conscious. "Granger?" he asked, reaching out his wand to prod her.

Pressing her back against the wall, Hermione brought her foot up and kicked him right between the legs. While he was curled over and groaning, she rushed from the room as fast as her slightly wobbly legs would carry her. There was probably more damage to her head than she had initially assumed. Nevertheless, she pushed herself to run around the nearest corner, where she leant against the wall and spent a moment catching her breath while she waited to hear whether Zabini was pursuing her or not.

"You're just going to get lost, Granger, and Malfoy Manor either kills or slowly drives insane those of muddy origins such as yourself," he called after her. He didn't seem to be running after her though.

Hermione would rather risk the ancient magic woven into the Manor and the potential threat it posed than the very real threat of the Murderous man who was after her. Not even glancing over her shoulder she took off running down the corridor, hoping that she'd come out somewhere close to an exit.

She was actually relieved that he had chosen to take her to Malfoy Manor, it meant that Draco was probably somewhere within the same walls as her, she only needed to find him.

When she heard footsteps behind her, she rushed off down the corridor and turned into the first doorway she found, cool darkness surrounding her the moment she shut the door behind her. It appeared to be a servant's stair. Instead of feeling sheltered by the shroud of concealment provided by the lack of light, Hermione's nerves were screaming that the darkness that sheltered her could perform the same function for the crazed Pureblood that wished her harm. The barest hint of light provided enough illumination for Hermione to make out the staircase below her. It was an escape from her pursuer. Giving it no further thought, Hermione darted down the stairs.

She came out in what appeared to be a kitchen. There were House Elves everywhere and a few human servers hovering around the edges as they waited for the elves to fill their empty platters. None of the kitchen staff even glanced at her, everyone completely engrossed in their tasks. Even in the close, sticky heat of the kitchen, the staff of Malfoy Manor were on task; had Hermione not been so terrified of being caught by Zabini, she would have been impressed.

A thumping came from the servant's stair, speeding Hermione's progress through the kitchen. She didn't even think about where it would lead when she burst out of the nearest doors ... and into the full ballroom on the other side.

Immediately, almost every head in the place turned towards her. With blood matting the back of her hair and severely rumpled pyjamas, she stood out like a sore thumb among all the fancy dresses and dress robes, and unlike the hardworking kitchen staff, none of the well-dressed partygoers had anything better to do than gawk at the terrified, bleeding woman who had suddenly burst into their midst.

"Hermione?" she heard from the other side of the room. The confused and worried voice broke the startled silence caused by her entrance and started a rush of whispers as everyone turned to their neighbour and started frantic, hushed conversations. Suddenly the entire crowd was talking about Hermione.

Anxiously, Hermione tried to decide if she would rather face a room of judgemental Purebloods or the murderous psychopath that was behind her. She'd rather face the judgemental whispers than the potential death any day.

As it turned out, Hermione didn't have to face the judgemental Purebloods again. The crowd parted to reveal the most wonderful sight she could imagine: Draco, pushing his way towards her.

"What are you doing h- is that _blood_?" he asked as he got closer and noticed her state. His hand flew up to her head, feeling the lump there as his eyes raked over her and searched for further injuries.

In full view of all those Purebloods, he wrapped her in a fierce hug, smoothing his hands down her back and arms as he checked for more tacky spots of blood that were out of sight. "Are you both all right?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Parkinson and Zabini killed the Auror guarding my door and broke into my flat. Zabini's taken my wand and he's after me."

Hermione risked a glance at the gathered people then. They weren't wearing expressions of disapproval liked she had expected them to wear upon witnessing Draco's interaction with a known Muggle born. Instead, a lot of them were looking at her, Hermione Granger, prominent Muggleborn with concerned expressions. It was like they thought she was an actual person who could be injured just like them instead of a lesser, insignificant being. Draco's efforts to sway their opinion seemed to be more effective than she'd dared to hope.

There were, of course, still those in the crowd who regarded her as if she was something unpleasant stuck to the bottom of their shoes, but they were in minority and they weren't openly voicing their opinions.

Draco removed his dress jacket and draped it around her shoulders, not worried in the least about staining the expensive fabric with her blood. Hermione appreciated the warmth as well as the minor protection provided by the too-large jacket from the staring eyes of their audience.

"What's going on here?" Narcissa asked in a hushed voice and she approached.

"Take care of Hermione, I have to go have a _chat_ with Blaise," Draco said as he gently guided Hermione towards his mother before making his way towards the kitchens.

Narcissa caught one look at the blood in the young woman's hair and the slightly unfocused look in her eyes and rushed Hermione over to a chair while calling for anyone with experience as a Healer. Luckily, there were a few healers present from St. Mugo's present who were willing to provide assistance.

Normally, Hermione would have objected to being treated like she was made of porcelain, but she was tire, scared, and pregnant, not to mention that her head was pounding so badly that she could barely see straight. If that didn't allow her to give other a chance to look after her, than what did?

Draco was only halfway to the kitchens when the doors burst open and Zabini stumbled out, looking manic as his eyes darted around the room. He ignored the enraged blond completely and tried to make his way towards where Hermione was being tended to, but Draco got in the way of his charge.

"You're never going near her again," Draco snarled, his wand already raised and pointed with deadly accuracy towards the man who had tried to end his budding family before it even had a proper chance to start.

"Draco, you're not in your right mind right now. Let me get rid of the Mudblood and then everything can go back to normal. We had fun in school before you started distancing yourself and exercising your bloody _conscience_. Just let me past and we can continue having fun."

"You're awfully talkative for a dead man," Draco said, his voice filled with the promise of pain.

Despite his insanity, Blaise knew when he was in danger. There was no reasoning with Draco when he was so lost in fury that he started growling like that. Shaking his head in disappointment, Blaise raised his wand and started firing hexes at the person who he claimed to be looking out for.

Hermione was facing away from the battle, but she flinched every time a spell collided with a wall and caused mighty cracks to echo across the large room. She kept trying to turn and watch, wanting to make sure that Draco was okay, only to be stop by Narcissa every time, the older blonde woman insisting that Draco could take care of himself and that Hermione needed to take care of the baby and herself.

On the sixth time Hermione tried to glance over towards the battle, she caught a flash of green light out of the corner of her eye before Narcissa could make her turn back towards the Healer tending her. A heavy thud resonated over the crowd, silencing everyone in the room.

Pale and horrified, the Malfoy matriarch was too preoccupied with her horror over the scene she had witnessed to stop Hermione from seeing the fight. Hermione finally turned herself to look just as the screaming started.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**A/N: Hello readers! Sorry for the delay, I actually meant to have this to you only a few days after chapter 11, but that obviously didn't happen...**

**As an apology for taking so long to update, I've included the short epilogue at the end of this chapter instead of making you wait for that last little bit. Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed, and special thanks to those of you who have been reviewing since the beginning! **

**~Frosty**

Hermione pushed away the people tending to her injuries and whipped around to face the source of the ominous thump, praying it hadn't been Draco's body that had fallen after that green flash. She didn't want to even _think _about what she would do if he were dead. Everyone in the ballroom seemed to be rooted to the spot, staring in horror.

Later, she would find out that the woman who had screamed upon witnessing the death had fainted after her screech and was only just caught by the gentleman that had been at her side. Even while she was jealous that the woman was innocent enough to be so disturbed by a death, Hermione was scornful to hear about such a cowardly reaction in a grown woman when Hermione herself had been facing death with more poise since she was but a child. None of this was in Hermione's mind as she frantically searched for that familiar head of blond hair, _needing _him to be okay.

To her immense relief, Draco was still standing. It was Zabini that was sprawled on the floor, unmoving. Had the crumpled body been Draco, Hermione would have gone the same way as the fainting woman and just allowed herself to crumple to the floor. At least in unconsciousness she wouldn't have been haunted by the knowledge that she was never going to see Draco again.

Draco looked around at the people staring at him, completely cool and unruffled, if a little out of breath from the strain of the duel. He voice was steady when he announced, "You all saw it, his wand backfired and he hit himself with the killing curse meant for me."

People were nodding along with him, either in agreement or because they were too scared to go against what he had just said. Almost giddy from relief, Hermione had the strangest urge to giggle at the terrified looks on many faces in the room. Very few people were brave enough to go against what Draco had just announced, especially when Zabini's body was on the floor at his feet and the wand that had put him there was still half-raised, waiting for another opponent to step forward and challenge Draco's statement.

Encouraged by the crowd's lack of resistance, Draco continued. "Take note of this incident, anyone who comes after Hermione will suffer a similar accident. I love her, which makes her as good as a Malfoy, and you all know what happens when you threaten a member of the Malfoy family. Is that clear?"

The nodding continued, slightly more frantic as the audience noticed the intensity of Draco's stare. Just to be certain that no one was going to hex him or Hermione once his back was turned, Draco's icy eyes ran over the crowd one last time. Some of the people he lingered on in warning actually shivered under his arctic stare. Anyone in the group who was not already on his side was thoroughly cowed.

Finally satisfied that he had the situation well in hand, Draco made his way over to Hermione. She had been hanging back and watching him intimidate the room while she tried to keep her traitorous knees from collapsing under the weight of her relief. Those same weak knees didn't have any problem throwing herself into Draco's waiting arms once he was close enough. For a second, she'd thought had had been dead, and it had terrified her more than anything she'd experienced before.

"Never scare me like that again," she ordered, the threat implied by her voice somewhat lessened because he face was pressed tightly against Draco's shoulder.

He squeezed her a little tighter and kissed her hair. "The same goes for you."

There were a few murmurs in the crowd as the pair's audience started to recover from their shock at Zabini's death and the familiarity between such a well known Pureblood and Muggleborn. Hermione ignored them. She wasn't worried about keeping their relationship a secret anymore; that ship had kind of sailed for them.

Draco returned the sentiment for a moment, but free from danger and moments of strong emotion, he was slightly uncomfortable showing such kindness in front of so many of his peers. He'd spent so long carefully cultivating a facade of hardness that it was strange to drop it when in the presence of so many Purebloods. Besides, his earlier threats would be rendered completely impotent should it get out that he was actually a kind, loving person.

Taking hold of Hermione's shoulders, Draco herded her back to where the Healers and his mother were waiting. "Make sure the baby's okay while you're checking her over," he ordered.

All of those within hearing distance had forgotten about propriety and were standing there, gape-jawed at Draco's apparently careless announcement. It wasn't every day that the heir to the Malfoy fortune admitted the existence of his half-blood bastard. Had it been anyone else, they would have immediately been tittering about how far the Malfoy name had fallen, but they remained silent.

Glancing around defiantly at their audience, Draco handed Hermione his wand so she could remove the charm concealing her stomach. The truth was out, so there was no point concealing what everyone knew to be there for any longer.

Hermione understood what he wanted and obligingly removed the charm. She was slightly nervous about exposing something she'd spent so long hiding, it made her feel a little like she was naked in front of all of those people. Subtly, she took Draco's hand when she returned his wand and held it, wanting the extra comfort.

Narcissa gasped. "Draco!" she scolded, "By the looks of her, you've had more than enough time to get a ring on her finger before she started showing, and yet her left hand remains completely bare. I know I taught you better than that."

"I was busy making it safe for her to be seen in public with me, mother," he said through clenched teeth.

The disapproving looks had intensified when those people watching realized just _how _pregnant Hermione was. It was one this to claim she was carrying a half-blood Malfoy heir, but it was another thing entirely to see the evidence for themselves. It made the whole thing more immediate and real. Hermione supposed that they may be able to accept that even though her parents were Muggles, she was still a person. She suspected that they were going to have more trouble with the fact that she was going to have a baby before she was married.

"He's only just learned of the baby, he's been spending rather a lot of his time abroad," Hermione said in Draco's defence.

Narcissa was having none of that. "I expect this to be remedied by the next time I see you. Now go take the poor girl home." Draco cringed slightly under the wrath of his mother. No one liked to be scolded like a preteen in front of a large group of people, and Draco was no exception. Narcissa glanced at the Healers to make sure that Hermione was stable enough to leave, they nodded their approval. "Take her home and see to it that she gets rest."

With a nod to his mother, Draco took Hermione's elbow and led to her to the nearest fireplace, ignoring the people who were staring after them. Let them stare; he had more important things to worry about at the moment.

"You're just going to leave a dead body in the middle of the floor like that?" Hermione asked, trying to look over her shoulder as she walked, but only managing to stumble. Draco's grip on her arm kept her from falling. Her head was really starting to pound and her shoulders were aching from the impact with the wall, so she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed, but – not for the first time – her curiosity wouldn't let her rest.

"Aurors will turn up eventually and Mother can set them straight about what happened," Draco said dismissively.

"We can't go back to my flat," Hermione said quietly as he reached for the Floo powder, "My bedroom is door-less, full of shrapnel from said door, and Pansy Parkinson is tied up in there."

Draco visibly shook off his questions in favour of more important things. He needed to get Hermione situated somewhere safe before he started asking for answers.

"We'll just go to mine then," he said simply.

They stepped into the fire together, reappearing in Draco's home moments later.

"Go sit on the couch while I draw you a bath," Draco ordered.

Normally, Hermione probably would have bristled at the tone, but her head just hurt so much. She just wanted to sleep, but knew that Draco was right in thinking that her muscles would feel better after a soothing bath and that the matted blood should be rinsed from her hair before she went to sleep.

She was just drifting off to sleep on the sofa when the fireplace flared emerald, making her jolt from her dreamy state. It would take a while for her to calm down enough to fully relax again without getting startled easily while half-asleep.

"Harry? What're you doing here?" she asked groggily, her pounding heart only making her head hurt worse. She was having difficulty thinking straight with her poor brain hurting so badly.

There was a flash of relief in her friend's eyes before he switched to anger at her for making him worry. "There's a murdered Auror and a bound Parkinson at your flat, a dead body at the Manor, and you're nowhere to be found!"

"She's had a stressful night, Potter," Draco said, having been summoned back into the room by the shouting, "and on top of that, she's injured. Leave her alone." He moved to stand between Hermione and Harry, daring the other man to cause further stress to the woman carrying his child.

Hermione pushed impatiently at Draco until he relented and stepped aside. She knew Harry wasn't going to hurt her and her head pained her too much to sit there while they had a pissing match.

"How did you know something was wrong?" she asked her friend to distract him from the glare he'd been levelling at Draco.

"Someone went to relieve the Auror posted outside your door, but they found the body," Harry said. "You have no idea how worried I was when I saw what a disaster your room was."

She could imagine. "I'm perfectly fine, Harry."

Hermione did a slightly wobbly spin so that Harry could see nothing major was injured. Unless he looked too closely at her head and noticed that a part of her hair was matted with blood... then she would have a more difficult time explaining to him that nothing was wrong.

Surviving as long as he had without Voldemort killing him wasn't something an unobservant person could do. Harry noticed the blood and was just working himself up to a good tirade – a particular skill of his – when Draco intervened.

"That's enough," he said. "She's fine, Potter. Now let her have her bath and then sleep. You can interrogate her when she's feeling herself again."

Harry actually nodded his agreement. "I'll let you rest tonight, but I'm going to need to question you about this whole thing tomorrow."

Tiredly, Hermione nodded. She was perfectly content with allowing Draco to herd her friend out of the house, just this once.

Harry left and Draco, just as Hermione had guessed he would, ushered her into the bathtub. With a gentleness he rarely exhibited, Draco washed the blood from her hair and then helped her scrub her back, rubbing at the tense muscles along her shoulders and neck in an effort to ease her headache.

Hermione probably would have felt awkward with Draco perched on the edge of the tub while she bathed, but she was slightly groggy and completely exhausted. The help was necessary; she probably would have fallen asleep and drowned in the deep tub without him there supervising.

He helped her stand and then dried her mass of soggy hair with a quick spell before wrapping an arm around her waist and tucking her into his bed like she was a young child. The image was helped along by the fact that his bed was larger than normal and it dwarfed her.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked him tiredly as he climbed into bed beside her.

Draco stared at her in disbelief for a moment to make sure she wasn't kidding. He shook his head fondly when he saw that she was indeed serious. "You were kidnapped, bumped over the head, bumped over the head again and then outed to Pureblood society as not only dating me, but pregnant with my child. It's me who should be asking you that question."

"You've killed not one but two people you considered friends because of me. Are you sure this is what you want?"

Draco tightened his arms around her, holding her as if he was afraid that she was going to get up and leave him. "Don't you dare talk like that again. I'm in this for the long run," he said very sternly. To prove his point, he released Hermione, stood from the bed, and stalked over to his bureau where he rifled through what appeared to be his sock drawer.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, her eyes alight with curiosity despite her exhaustion. The pain was less than before, which was wonderful. The spells the Healers had cast on her must just be starting to have an effect, or perhaps it was the wonderful shoulder massage Draco had given her while bathing her. She didn't really care what had finally eased her pain, she only cared that the throbbing on her skull had begun to ease marginally.

"Something I've wanted to do for a very long time," he answered, his back still facing her as he rifled through the drawer. Whatever he was searching for must have been buried pretty deeply for him to have to spend so long searching for it.

She waited while he palmed something and stalked back over to the side of the bed, where he perched, watching her very intently. Knowing that Draco was going to get around to his point if she only gave him some time to get to it, Hermione forced her curiosity aside and waited some more.

"Mother was right when she said I've waited too long," he said, opening his hand to show her the small box in his hand.

It looked suspiciously like a ring box.

Wide-eyed, Hermione blinked at him in disbelief. "You did _not _just start what I assume to be a proposal by saying that your mother was right when she ordered you to marry me."

A slight flush pinkened Draco's pale cheeks. "This has nothing to do with Mother's insistence, I was just using it as a segue into the proposal – a proposal you've just interrupted. Now stop talking for five seconds and let me do this right."

Hermione huffed at him irritably, but remained silent while he continued.

"Despite how infuriating you are, I love you. This ring," he opened the box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring resting in there, "Has been sitting in my drawer since well before I knew you were pregnant. So it's not my mother's urging that's finally made me propose. I've been waiting until it was safe for you to marry me before I asked." He let out his breath and waited for her answer.

"You haven't asked me anything yet," Hermione urged.

Draco rolled his eyes, but the gesture was entirely affectionate. "Hermione Granger, you infuriating woman, will you marry me?"

For all of ten seconds she pretended to contemplate it. He'd made her wait for months for him to come back, she wasn't going to let him off so easily now that she had him waiting on edge.

"On one condition," she finally said.

He raised his eyebrows, instantly suspicious. "What?"

She tilted her head to the side. "No, wait. _Two _conditions."

Draco gestured impatiently for her to get on with listing them.

"One: you never leave me and our baby again."

"I can do that," Draco said gravely, taking her hand and stroking his thumb over her knuckles. He wasn't sure he'd ever forgive himself for leaving her, he couldn't exactly expect her to.

"Two: you don't invite your friends to the wedding. You have the _worst_ taste in friends," Hermione muttered.

Draco kissed her temple. "But the best taste in future wives. Done, for both conditions."

As Hermione looked at her new ring, she smiled and snickered slightly, the only way she could express her amusement without making her head hurt worse. Her strange behaviour earned her a confused expression from Draco.

"A shotgun wedding like that and people are going to think you've knocked me up or something," Hermione teased.

He bent to kiss her very large stomach. "I don't see why anyone would think that, but no, that's not why I want to marry you. I've known since I was sixteen that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, it's just taken us a while to get here."

* * *

><p>The courtroom was completely packed. Hermione had been on edge ever since they'd announced the court date for Pansy Parkinson. Since all the other players in the game that had nearly killed Hermione were dead, Parkinson was the only one left to stand trial.<p>

At first, Hermione had thought she would have wanted nothing more than to see Parkinson face justice, but now, much later in the trial, Hermione just wanted it to be over. Sitting in the courtroom was only bringing back bad memories from the Death Eater trials after the war and putting her on edge.

Seeing her nervous fidgeting, Draco reached over and took her hand. Their entwined fingers rested on top of Hermione's ridiculously large stomach, calming her.

Remarkably, Draco didn't have any charges to face for his involvement in the murder of Nott _or _Zabini. Much to Harry's irritation, Draco had been too good at hiding his tracks; there was nothing Harry could charge him with.

When Harry had discovered that not one person who had been present in the ballroom for Zabini's death was willing to testify against Draco, he'd practically started pulling out his hair in frustration. Letting injustice go unpunished - even when it benefitted the father of his best friend's child – went against Harry's nature.

Leaning over, Draco brushed his lips against the shell of Hermione's ear. "They're about to give the verdict, love. You may want to pay attention to this part," he whispered.

Blushing slightly at having been caught staring off into space, Hermione turned her attention back to the trial.

Pansy, looking tired and scared, was sitting in a chair and facing the entire Wizengamot. Gone was the confident bully, this woman was thoroughly cowed.

Hermione had been surprised that they would assemble the whole Wizengamot, but Draco hadn't. Apparently, when a member of the Golden Trio is nearly killed, the entire Magical world takes offense. It had helped that Draco and his vast funds had been determined to put Pansy away for a long, long time.

"Pansy Parkinson, for your involvement in the kidnapping and attempted murder of Hermione Granger, you are sentenced to twenty years in Azkaban," the leader of the Wizengamot proclaimed in a thunderous voice that made the huddled form of Parkinson shrink further into herself. Hermione just couldn't seem to muster up the energy to feel sorry for the woman.

As Hermione watched, two guards escorted Parkinson from the room in shackles. It was finally over. She put a hand to her stomach; she would have thought the strange stirrings of vague dread that she'd been experiencing since that morning would have faded once the trial was over, but they only seemed to be worsening.

"How does it feel to finally be safe?" Draco asked.

Hermione leaned against his shoulder. "I'm always safe as long as you're at my side."

Wrinkling his nose, Draco turned in his seat to face her fully. "If you keep talking about me like that in public, people are going to think I'm going soft."

Instead of laughing, Hermione looked down and went pale. Apparently she'd been misinterpreting her vague feeling of dread.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Her large, worried eyes turned up to meet his concerned stare. "I think my water just broke."

**Epilogue**

Hermione and Ginny reclined in the sun, both of them basking in the warm rays. A gentle breeze blew just strong enough to make their hair languidly sway around their faces.

"Would you ever have thought you'd be here?" Ginny asked, looking around the backyard of the house Hermione and Draco had bought shortly after the birth of their son. Draco was just out of hearing distance, pushing little Scorpius on the swings while the toddler screamed with laughter. He was such a happy little baby.

"No," said Hermione simply, knowing Ginny didn't need her to elaborate.

"I certainly didn't have Draco in mind when I cast the spell," Ginny said. She tilted her head to the side and sighed, lost in the past. "Now that you're all settled down and the excitement is gone, I kind of miss it."

Hermione looked over at her friend incredulously. "Are you kidding? With those two around, there's never a dull moment."

"They are adorable to watch together," Ginny observed.

The brunette nodded. "They are, but that's not what I meant. Watch this," Hermione said, an evil glint in her eyes. Clearing her throat, she raised her voice, "I can't wait for the thirteenth. You should see the present I bought Draco, I just know he's going to love it. I had to find the perfect present for such an important day."

Across the yard, Hermione and Ginny watched as what little colour Draco had drained from his face and he froze midway through giving Scorpius a little push on the swing.

"He's going to be frantic for a few hours now, thinking he missed an anniversary," Hermione said, giggling.

Trying to look casual, Draco scooped up Scorpius and approached the two women. "Could you watch Scorpius for a while? I have to go... do something."

Hermione accepted the giggling toddler with a smile and tilted her head so Draco could kiss her cheek before he left.

"You're a horrible, evil woman," Ginny said once Draco was out of hearing distance.

"Perhaps," answered Hermione, bouncing her son on her knee and making him giggle some more, "But he deserves it. Last week, I came home early and Draco had conjured a baby seat for the back of his broom and was flying around with Scorpius on that death-stick of his!"

Ginny looked like she wanted to tell Hermione that those seats were perfectly safe, but she knew better than to try and persuade her acrophobic friend that brooms were fully reliable when operated by a competent flyer, something she knew Draco to be.

"You're happy though, right?" Ginny suddenly asked.

Hermione looked up from the kisses she'd been bestowing on Scorpius' grinning cheeks. "Happier than I ever would have thought possible, why?"

"Just making sure. This whole thing was my fault and I'd hate to be responsible for making you miserable, but since you're so happy, I'm glad to take credit for that." She grinned smugly. "I think we're going to have to agree that I know best."

Hermione certainly was infinitely happier than she had been when Ginny had interrupted her reading time with her insistence that Hermione stop waiting for her Prince Charming. As it turned out, she'd had her Prince Charming all along. Something that had started out as two scared sixteen-year-olds seeking comfort in each other had somehow changed into a happy little family.

Every day Hermione was more thankful that Ginny hadn't been able to mind her own business. Without the redhead's meddlesome ways, Hermione would have still been reading sappy romance novels and sighing instead of holding her newborn son with the love of her life.

Hermione had a feeling that this was only going to make Ginny's smugness worse. She just wouldn't tell her...


End file.
